


Deliverance

by cricketsong1985



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, Bite Kink, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Memories, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Self-Discovery, Slow Build, Sypha's an optimist, Threesome - F/M/M, Violence, Whump, my poor baby boi, this fic got way longer than I expected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 337,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricketsong1985/pseuds/cricketsong1985
Summary: Adrian is beginning to think that Wallachia will be a smoking pile of ash long before he, Trevor, and Sypha can stop Dracula’s war on humanity. They’ve been chasing the castle for months, but each time they get close, it vanishes. Traveling with such genuine and trustworthy allies has been unexpectedly pleasant; Adrian doesn’t mind that Trevor and Sypha are involved with each other, but he is taken entirely by surprise when they open their relationship to him one evening.Hopelessly in over his head, his heart keeps urging him forward, even when he’s forced to confront the darkest aspects of his nature. Adrian must learn to swallow his pride and let himself be vulnerable if he wants a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for looking within when the world is drenched in blood and magic, and the path to victory may destroy him completely.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 545
Kudos: 498





	1. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have taken liberties with the show's timeline and have tweaked some of the rules of the Castlevania universe to suit my tastes. We begin somewhere in Season Two, and it is canon-divergent from that point. Spelling and grammatical errors are my own, hopefully I got them all.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I'm using these characters and the Castlevania universe, but I didn't create them (except Hana), I don't own them, and I make no profit from this work.
> 
> 12/20/2020: I have decided to re-title this work, as the original title no longer fit well with the story. 'A Night At The Inn' will henceforth be known as 'Deliverance,' which I feel is a much better fit. I am also excited to announce that the art I have commissioned to pair with this work is now complete!

Cover Art has been done by the incredibly talented [raspberry](https://raspberryartist.carrd.co/). Thank you so much for this! It is perfect!

**Deliverance**

**Part One**

Trevor Belmont had a way of drawing attention, especially when he was trying not to.

Adrian was regularly appalled by his crass behaviour, yet he was sharing a table with the man, watching him lick the grease of a roasted quail from his fingertips and spit the bones onto the worn tabletop, heedless of the mess. Certainly, the last surviving Belmont left a great deal to be desired in terms of hygiene, never mind that nearly every sentence he spoke was laced with profanity. For a man raised in a fine house, he certainly hadn’t picked up any manners.

He stuck out like a sore thumb, even tucked into the back corner of a tavern, ruff of thick white fur catching the eye easily when everyone else was huddled in their peasant rags slurping mugs of warm ale to forget their woes. Trevor’s mug was empty, since he’d downed the whole thing the moment it was placed before him. Adrian had noticed the way the tavern girl’s eye lingered on him as she set down the ale. Curiosity and interest flickered briefly, as expected in the wake of such a handsome and robust specimen.

That look quickly changed to one of disgust when he tipped the mug back and gulped the contents down so quickly that a trail leaked from one corner of his mouth and soaked into the fur of his cloak. He belched and pushed the empty cup towards her with a flat look of expectation, wiping his face with the back of his hand before shoving the rest of the quail into his mouth and chewing it loudly, pulling bones out as he came across them.

“Did you want another, sir?” she asked him in an apathetic voice as she glanced at Adrian, straightening and smiling shyly when she met his eyes.

“Well I didn’t come here to get fucking sober,” Trevor punctuated that with another burp, scratching his head. Adrian thought there was a strong likelihood that he had fleas or lice after the last several weeks on the road, especially with his habit of passing out wherever he landed, bedding notwithstanding.

“Of course,” the barmaid answered him, refilling the cup. She muttered under her breath when she was out of Trevor’s earshot, but Adrian could hear her quite clearly. “I doubt you remember the last time you were sober anyway.”

Adrian smiled slightly at this comment as Trevor wiped his greasy fingers on his pants, the ale bringing a contented glaze to his eyes. Upon the delivery of the next mug he tossed a coin at the barmaid. “One more,” he instructed, curling his large hand around the mug in a practiced way.

At this point, he turned his attention to their other traveling companion. Sypha had managed to avoid looking filthy and worn down despite spending just as much time on the road as Trevor. She was sitting at the bar proper, perched on a stool and deeply engaged in conversation with some of the local patrons. Her animated movements and gestures indicated that she was telling a story, and the indiscreet glances over to Trevor by her audience made it clear that the story involved him doing something embarrassing or stupid. He was already accustomed to being the butt of the joke and didn’t pay much attention to what she was saying. In fact, Adrian hypothesized that he relished being the subject of her stories, the more mortifying the better.

To the untrained eye, he looked to be enjoying his descent into alcoholic stupor, but Adrian knew he was keeping a close eye on Sypha and the room in general and would not miss a beat if trouble stirred. Not that she would need his help, of course. Sypha Belnades was a rare woman, and a talented mage to boot. She could quite easily hold her own against Dracula’s hordes – the townsfolk were unlikely to present any challenge she couldn’t manage with one hand behind her back and both eyes closed.

Sypha was fine boned and beautiful, her bright blue eyes glittering, a blush on her cheeks from her own cup of ale. She was doing what came naturally to her as a Speaker – telling stories and listening to the stories of others. Trevor was also doing what came naturally to him at present; it was Adrian who didn’t know what to do with himself, and wished he could just leave and wait for them outside.

He knew he drew just as much attention as Trevor did. His height and fair colouration always turned heads. His clothing was of a quality that was not overlooked when they passed through small towns and the countryside – people assumed he was a nobleman. He had the education and mannerisms to confirm that suspicion, but he was not about to advertise his identity to everyone they met. He had made an effort to blend in this evening; a cup of ale sat going flat before him, his long fingers tracing the rim of his mug with disinterest. The smell of dirty people, sweat, old beer, and food on the verge of spoiling really killed his desire to consume anything this tavern offered.

The trio had been following the hordes for months. It was a seemingly endless journey of hunting and killing that had somehow become stuck in an infinite loop. No matter how far they traveled, they could not gain his father’s castle. When they drew near, it disappeared entirely and reappeared hundreds of miles away, thus rendering their efforts fruitless once more.

Finally, they had decided that they needed a new tactic, and had diverted their course towards Trevor’s ancestral home, the Belmont Estate. It was actually what lay beneath the ruins of the Estate which interested them. The Belmont Hold was a massive repository of information, relics, artifacts and innumerable books, all on the subject of hunting and killing demons, vampires, and monsters. Within the extensive libraries, they hoped to discover some method for isolating the castle and entering it. They were getting closer; they would reach it in a few more days. With a little luck they’d soon be able to confront Dracula and put an end to the mass genocide he was carrying out.

Adrian knew his father was mad with grief over the death of Lisa, Adrian’s mother, but that hardly justified this war. His heart broke at the repeated tragedy of entire countrysides rendered to ash, death everywhere in sight. Whole populations slaughtered, or worse, transformed into night creatures bent on rending flesh from bone and destroying everything everywhere for no other reason than to placate one maddened but very powerful man. It went against nature, it went against morals, it defied logic. Did he really expect to kill the whole world?

Adrian sighed, leaning his chin on his palm, gaze sweeping up to Trevor across the table from him. The third mug of beer was now emptied and he had an impatient look of impending sobriety on his face. His traveling companions were unusual, sure, but Adrian had become used to having them around, and they breathed life into everything in a way he felt incapable of. He’d never had very many friends, between growing up in the castle and then living in the cottage with his mother. He had physically matured so much faster than human children that connecting with them was awkward. He couldn’t be honest with humans about his nature, but they could sense something from him that set them on edge. Most people were naturally wary of him. He hadn’t pushed very hard to move past that as a teenager, and had chosen to keep to himself. Trevor and Sypha were the first people he’d really come to know more deeply. He liked them both more as time passed, as he got to know them better.

It was challenging in the beginning, trying to warm up to these two. Well, Sypha had been easy from the start. She had a very high opinion of him – which helped – and he tried his best to live up to that. Trevor… well he was more difficult. They argued regularly, but had developed a mutual respect for one another as fighters which eased the everyday tension somewhat. Adrian tried to always be honest with himself, and he had to admit, he’d grown quite attached to his traveling companions. They were like a bridge for him between his two natures. They knew exactly what he was and didn’t care. It felt good to be accepted by them.

When his mother had been killed, Vlad Dracula Tepes became hellbent on genocide, so Adrian had made it his mission to stop his father in her name. He, too, was thoroughly stricken by grief and anger at her death, but he understood the human’s fearful motivations. They didn’t accept her advanced medical knowledge, and believed her to be a witch. Out of fear and lack of comprehension, they burned her at the stake. He recognized that the actions of a few did not represent the human race as a whole.

Not only that, but he reminded himself often that he was in fact half human, even though he didn't feel that way most of the time. He felt like he was more vampire than human, because he could not fit in with the humans as easily as he could with the other vampires. He had lived the earlier years of his life at the castle. Those were his happiest times, with both his parents and a whole community of vampires around him. He had come to see some differences of course, but they were mitigated by his status as Son of Dracula. He was respected, though his sensitive nature was not something to be proud of in that culture. He had been self-assured enough not to care what others thought when he was growing up. He was stronger, much faster, and more powerful than most full vampires, which certainly helped.

Adrian had accepted a long time ago that it would always be his lot in life to be stuck somewhere between the two, not entirely one or the other, but part of each. That was the thing that drove him pointedly to avoidance and solitude. It was easier not to think about it if he stayed away from them both and made his own path. His father’s insanity was making that easier, at least. He had a clear purpose now. Kill his own father and save the world.

Which is what brought him to the present moment. Sypha’s laughter broke him from his thoughts. She was giggling as she told her audience how Trevor had been so drunk when they left the last town that he mistook a bull ox for his horse and tried to mount it but got thrown off into the dung heap and nearly trampled to death. Whenever she laughed really hard she snorted, as she was doing now. Just one of the cute little things that Adrian had noticed about her over time.

She finished her story and excused herself from the small half circle of listeners that had formed around her, and left the tavern to find the privy, cool night air blowing in when she opened the door. Trevor rose from his bench and followed her out on short order, leaving Adrian with his cup of ale and the rest of the tavern patrons. When the pair left the room it seemed to him the life went out of it. People returned to their mundane activities, but the laughter died down, and the colours fell flat. He sighed to himself and left the cup on the table with a coin, following his companions into the night.

Outside of the tavern there was a cool dampness in the air. It felt lovely on his skin after the smoky confines and the smells of so many people pressed close to him. Crickets sang their night songs to the stars, which where hidden by swaths of patchy clouds like plumes of smoke in the dark sky. He took a deep breath, boots squelching in the mud. He could hear Sypha and Trevor talking to each other; her laughter and his muttered profanity floated over the trees from a path that led to the latrines.

Adrian wrinkled his nose and went the other way – away from the human smells and torchlight – into the darkness that he found both a comfort and a balm to his senses. He wandered away from the tavern until its lights disappeared from his peripheral vision and the smell of smoke and piss was overtaken by the smells of grass and pine needles. He settled down with his back against a tree, sinking against it, relaxing his frame. He could hear Trevor and Sypha still, if he listened for them. She was chastising him for his terrible stench and suggesting he might bathe at some point, preferably before he passed out for the night.

“Trevor we haven’t slept in an actual bed for over a month, its a luxury I’m very much looking forward to. Don’t spoil it for me, go wash up. The tavern keeper said they will even wash our clothes for us.”

Adrian could hear the affection in her voice, and could picture the Belmont heir rolling his eyes. “Oh fine,” Trevor grumbled, “Have it your way. I’ll be in the bath, then. Find Alucard, he went off into those trees.” Adrian could hear the _shhhk shhhk_ noise of boots in the mud getting further away, back towards the inn and tavern.

Alucard. The name he had taken to represent his opposition to his father. It had become well-known in Wallachia, thanks largely in part to the nomadic Speakers spreading stories of him in the year since he had taken refuge beneath Gresit to rest. He’d needed to recover from his injuries as much as from the emotional wounds of losing his mother and father in such a short time. If Sypha and Trevor hadn’t woken him, he had no doubt that he would have spent a great deal longer recovering in somnolence. He still could hardly think of his father without unraveling a little, and he tried not to think of his mother at all lest he be overwhelmed by the pain of her death. He used the moniker generally now, and did not use his given name, Adrian, except in his own thoughts. It seemed too personal. Nobody knew Adrian. They all knew Alucard – a fighter, a warrior. Alucard was a force against Dracula, a hope for the world that the evil would be stopped. Adrian was a young man who’s family was gone, largely alone in the world with little on his horizon but patricide and then probably suicide. The last thing he wanted was to develop close personal ties – that didn’t fit into his destiny.

He removed his gloves and pulled a blade of grass, running his fingers over it, feeling the tiny razor edge which reminded him of a row of little teeth. He let his legs stretch out before him, running his thumb over the textured surface of the grass, listening to the nearly imperceptible sound of the ridges in his skin passing over it. What good was making friends if he only had one purpose? What did it matter what he did with his personal time, so long as he fulfilled his duty when the day came? As long as he honed his skills to their sharpest and did everything he could to stop his father, the rest was moot.

Before the horror of his mother’s murder at the hands of the church, Adrian had pictured something very different for himself. He’d still struggled to feel accepted in some areas because he was not born a true vampire, but it was easy to be confident when you were taught by one of the greatest minds to ever walk the earth. His father was someone he loved, respected, and had hoped to one day make proud. He had fully expected to live the life of a prince, and to defend the castle and his family with all the skills he’d been honing since he was a small child. He’d never dreamed he’d be using his abilities to try to take the castle from his father. To kill his own father.

There was no mistaking Vlad Dracula Tepes’ personal shortcomings, the least of which were his virulent temper, his jealousy, and his greed. Lisa had been the force of balance which had tempered the evil within him for many years, but with her death, all of that progress had been consumed by Dracula’s fire and wrath.

Now, Adrian only saw one possible path before him, and it consisted of violence for the sake of the greater good. For the sake of the humans, who already endured so many hardships, he would dedicate his entire life to stopping his father’s war. In order to do that, he needed to compartmentalize to some extent, hence Alucard. Alucard would be strong when Adrian couldn’t be. Alucard would be the hero that Adrian didn’t know how to be.

He heard Sypha’s robes rustling against themselves as she walked, and the sound of grass being gently crushed beneath her feet as she made her way into the trees towards him. He saw a small glow of light as she approached, her index and pinkie held up with a little ball of flame dancing between them, lighting her way in the dark. She came into the small clearing where he was sitting and let the flame go out, plunging them both into darkness again. He could see her clearly, her eyes glittering in the small amount of light from the sky, her short copper hair appearing brown in the dimness. He knew she couldn’t see him in this low light, he probably just looked like a blotch of white against the dark tree trunk.

“Alucard, what are you doing out here in the dark alone?”

“I’m just getting some air,” he responded, not wanting to discuss his personal thoughts. He was fine. He simply needed to remind himself of why he was doing this, of what was important. Sometimes he needed to be alone to gain perspective.

“We’ve been on the road for so long, I can’t imagine you’d want to spend more time outside when we have a room in the inn for the night. Won’t you come inside and get cleaned up?” she extended her hand to him, meaning to help him up in a friendly gesture.

Adrian looked at her hand, rising to his feet without taking the assistance, and putting his gloves back on. The soft black buckskin was a familiar comfort. He nodded at Sypha, “Very well, it _would_ be nice to be clean.”

She smiled and slipped her hand into his anyway, tugging him forward. Her touch was warm in his palm, even through his glove. She held up her other hand, the ball of fire popping back into existence to light her way back to the tavern. She extinguished it before they broke through the trees, torchlight making the going easier for her.

Adrian let himself be guided up the back set of stairs of the inn and to the room they had rented for the night. There was no sign of Trevor, he hadn’t returned yet. Sypha closed the door and lit the lantern which sat on a small desk, the only furniture in the room aside from a rough-hewn bed frame topped with a few straw mattresses and two quilts. A rigid chair tucked against the desk, and the single window was covered in an oiled skin, keeping out the cold but also trapping the smoke from the lantern inside. Adrian sniffed, a slight wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. He could easily smell whoever had been in the room before them, and the fact that the linens on the bed weren’t the freshest.

Admittedly, the dhampir was accustomed to some measure of finery in his life, and this time spent traveling had been an adjustment from his typical comforts. He had no problem spending the nights outside, keeping watch when his companions rested, but he found it unpleasant to be cramped in small quarters, his head nearly brushing the low rafters if he stood up straight. Sypha was oblivious to all of this. The Speakers were nomadic people, so life on the road was her normal. The occasional room in an inn was simply a rare treat. She gratefully threw herself onto the bed, moaning in pleasure at the feeling of an actual mattress beneath her tired frame.

“Oh this is divine, its been far too long since I felt a real bed. I’m going to sleep like a baby.”

Adrian removed his coat, folding the long black garment carefully in half and draping it over the chair. His linen shirt was still somewhat clean, but it would be nice to have it washed along with his other clothing. He liked to be clean; he couldn’t stand dirt under his nails, or the scent of his own perspiration. Every person around smelled far worse than he ever did, but he was somehow much more tolerant of other people’s dirt. His own was insufferable. Sypha eyed him from her position perched on the edge of the bed.

“Come down for a bath,” she instructed and left her outer cloak and a few of her things on the bed, giving him an expectant look. “I know you hate to be dirty,” her smile was teasing. She and Trevor found his hatred of being dirty to be most amusing.

Adrian nodded and followed her from the room. He always did what she asked of him anyway. He just couldn’t seem to deny Sypha. She was impossible to say no to. And forget arguing with her, it was a lost cause. She had an answer for everything and it would be an exercise in futility to challenge her. He thought it was because she was so petite – people wouldn’t take her seriously unless she could stand up for herself. It helped that she could light them on fire or freeze them in a block of ice if they didn’t acquiesce.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

The town was one of the nicest places they’d been on their journey thus far. It helped that it had managed to escape the worst of the hordes and only had a few damaged homes. The crops had been spared as well, and the water ran clean and cold. The edge of the horde was always advancing further, consuming town after town. Adrian thought that next time he saw this place it would probably not look so quaint. They had encountered some roving scouts on the last leg of their journey before they’d come here. They had dispatched them, but there were always more to take their places. As soon as the main horde got word that there were humans to feast on here, they would be on their way, and the same destruction and death they’d left everywhere else would be repeated.

For the time being, this place was like an oasis. The elaborate bath house was certainly an unexpected rarity. It was a medium sized, squat building with an entrance on each side, one for men, one for women. In the middle of the two entrances was a trench where a fire burned, and the hot air was sucked under the building, warming the stone bath from beneath. A shriveled woman who resembled a shrunken apple was tending the fire. She was also tending a large barrel where she pushed clothing around with a paddle, washing it. Other women were working nearby at similar washbasins. It was getting rather late, so many of the basins now stood empty for the night. Racks were set off to the side for the clothing to dry.

Adrian and Sypha went into their respective entrances. Adrian removed his boots and worked the strings on his shirt free, slipping it off over his head. Next were his breeches, which he untied and loosened until he could slip out of them as well. He left the clothing to be laundered and noted Trevor’s fur cloak over a hook on the wall, and his muddy boots kicked into a heap on the floor. He could hear the man’s relaxed breathing as he entered the main bath area, which was divided, one side for men, one for women, a partition creating a visual barrier between the two sides.

Naked, Adrian padded silently to the edge of the deep bathing pool and slowly tested the water with a toe. It was blissfully hot. Trevor was draped on a bench in the water, his back against the edge of the stones, his arms stretched casually to either side. He was flushed, chest reddened from the heat and his tan skin beaded with sweat and criss-crossed with scars. A bottle that had previously been on the shelf behind the bar was just beside his fingertips, the cork laying on its side on the stones. The smells of liquor and the other man were apparent.

Trevor gave a groan of contentment and sank another inch into the water, cracking an eye open and running it slowly over Adrian’s frame. He knew Trevor probably couldn’t see straight based on the half empty bottle beside him, but he also knew the man found his body attractive. He was well aware that his skin was so white as to nearly glow in the torchlight, along with the gold in his hair and eyes. Trevor was never shy about his inclinations and he had made it clear to Adrian that he found him pretty. It wasn’t offered as a compliment; it was more like teasing. At least, he was pretty sure it was. The Belmont heir had made repeated cracks over Adrian’s somewhat effeminate features. He was always teasing him, especially lately.

At the beginning of their travels together, it had been very uncomfortable to be around this man in close quarters, with his complete disregard for personal space and total absence of tact, but he had become accustomed to being around both Trevor and Sypha after spending months living alongside them.

He’d certainly never allowed himself into any kind of compromising position with either of his friends. He was still adjusting to the company, and he always tried to maintain a certain amount of personal distance. Whenever their trio had down time, he did his best to occupy himself with hunting game or making preparations for the next part of their journey, lest he have nothing to occupy his time and be drawn into something that was outside of his scope of comfort. Adrian had yet to admit to himself that he was avoiding close contact with Trevor and Sypha because he sensed that they might be open to something more than friendship.

He waded into the heat of the pool and lowered himself onto the bench opposite the grizzled man, resting his back against the stones. He exhaled, allowing himself to relax. He could hear Sypha’s bare feet on the stones on the other side of the partition. She peered around it, taking stock of the two men, then boldly crossed the barrier, hanging her towel on a hook on the wall and striding naked into the bath. Her eyes first swept over Adrian, who tried not to stare at her creamy breasts, nipples sharp in the open air. He looked to the side to avoid meeting her eyes.

She only smiled at him then moved to sit beside Trevor, curling against him and leaning her head on his shoulder. Sypha’s small frame tucked against the hunter’s larger one perfectly. Her breasts were only half submerged below the water line, so Adrian did his best to be respectful and stared down into the pool where their three pairs of legs were tangled together at its center. Trevor’s arm came around Sypha and he crushed her against his side, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He kissed her temple then brought the bottle to his lips, taking a draw from it and setting it back down.

Adrian was fairly certain that they had not been sleeping together when they had awakened him in Gresit. It had happened sometime afterwards. He didn’t know exactly when it had turned sexual – they were drawn to one another like magnets, and they fit together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

What he found less natural was they way they were parading it in front of him. Sypha was fearless and bold and she was anything but shy. She had a particular and recent disregard for her own nakedness in Adrian’s presence which made him question her intentions. Trevor had surprised him by being completely nonchalant about the whole thing, and he had been increasingly open with his affections towards her in front of the dhampir. Initially, Adrian assumed he was doing it in a territorial sense, as in ‘hands off, she’s mine,’ but he didn’t think that was it anymore. He didn’t know what to think. At the moment he was thinking how very small and crowded this bath was.

Somewhere behind them condensation was dripping from the rafters, _drip drip drip._

Sypha’s eyes drifted shut. She was completely at ease, not in the slightest concerned that she was baring all to both of them.

“This is nice,” she said in a relaxed voice.

Trevor made a low noise of agreement in his chest. “Mhmm, its a nice change from sleeping in pig shit, though I imagine we’ll be back to shoving swords up monster’s asses by this time tomorrow. I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts.”

Sypha squirmed out from under his arm and smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “I’m not the one who passed out drunk in pig shit. I slept quite well that night in fact. Alucard and I stayed up talking, then I went to sleep under a big tree.”

Trevor snorted at her comment. “You couldn’t have slept _that_ well, because I distinctly remember a wave of night creatures trying to kill us all, then running for our lives half asleep while Alucard destroyed them with his floating sword. Lucky break that he’d rather brood all night than sleep. I admit I was almost killed because they ran _over_ me, not because they were trying to attack me, but they were actually trying to _eat_ you.”

“I don’t think night creatures have a taste for filthy drunks anyway, you would have been fine,” Sypha retorted without missing a beat.

“Oh but they definitely have a taste for redheads,” Trevor grinned at her, his large palm mussing her hair.

She squirmed out from under his hand and promptly splashed him in the face with water. He sputtered and splashed her back but she moved out of the way and the water got Adrian instead, soaking his hair and making it curl against his face and chest. He had been listening to their banter with some enjoyment and was caught unawares by the action. He wiped water from his face, blinking in surprise.

“You splashed me,” he observed and Trevor shot him a mocking look and pointedly aimed another splash at him.

“I did. Twice. What’re you gonna do about it?”

The challenge was an invitation to join them in joking around, but Adrian didn’t intend to sink to the level of children splashing about. Sypha interrupted the moment by dumping a bucket of water over Trevor’s head, thereby silencing him. She laughed heartily.

“You smell like beer and dung, let me help you wash up,” she offered with feigned sincerity, grabbing the cake of soap and shooting Adrian a disarming grin. Trevor’s arm came around her while her head was turned, and he dunked her under the water with a triumphant “Hah!” She resurfaced quickly, splashing them both.

She was still laughing as she wiped rivulets of water from her face, smiling fondly and searching around for the soap which had escaped her grasp. Trevor snatched it and held it out to her. When she reached for it he deftly moved his hand away, snickering at her and tossing the cake of soap into the water in the middle of the pool. Sypha went for it, kicking her legs out and diving towards it. She closed her fingers over her prize and moved to settle on the bench beside Adrian, her hip pressing against his. He felt their skin touch together, her soft heat made slippery by the water. She snuggled against him like she had against Trevor moments before. Adrian stiffened, remaining very still. He schooled his expression to one of neutrality, eyes flicking down to Sypha’s breasts floating against him in the water, and Trevor’s leg leaning easily against his in the small pool.

They were so open with each other, and with him. They touched easily, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Their laughter came freely too, naturally. They were both trustworthy, brave and strong. They were people Adrian respected and cared for, but he didn’t feel comfortable with this. He knew it was unusual, the way neither of them seemed to have any boundaries, neither of them minded their nakedness around each other or him. At first they had been more discreet, but as the days rolled into weeks and now months they had opened the possibility of a physical connection to him a little at a time, but never in so many words. Reading between the lines was not one of Adrian’s strengths, but he could see that much plainly.

He was completely inexperienced in all matters of sexuality. He had not even kissed anyone, much less lay with a woman. He had never pictured himself forming any sexual relationships. How could he? He was only twenty, but that hardly mattered. He felt somehow much older, like the fate of the world rested on his shoulders, which, to be fair, it did. How could he be so selfish as to delve into pleasures of the flesh when his own father was presently murdering entire nations?

He knew well enough that humans and vampires could have sex, and that it could be very enjoyable for both parties, but he was neither human nor vampire. Where were the rules for dhampir? Most of the draw between humans and vampires had to do with one being the other’s food. Adrian did benefit greatly from drinking blood, but he didn’t experience it the same way as a full vampire. It wasn’t an all-encompassing thirst that drove him beyond reason. Sure, he’d denied himself that particular pleasure for some time, detesting the idea of such indulgent gluttony, or of causing harm, but he knew it would likely play a role if he allowed himself to become deeply intimate with others. It was unpleasant to think of Trevor or Sypha seeing that side of him, even though they were well and truly familiar with his nature.

If he were to become involved intimately with a human, perhaps even fall in love, how would he deal with their difference in lifespan? Adrian didn’t know what his natural lifespan would be. There weren’t very many of his kind, and none who were also son of Dracula. He may well be immortal, and then again, perhaps he would live only a few hundred years. He was fairly certain, however, that he would not die unless beheaded and burned to ashes. He felt it in his blood, a strength that he couldn’t imagine would ever wane from natural causes. Either way, human lives were so short. Most didn’t live even fifty years, though some lived nearly twice that.

It would only lead him to heartache if he allowed his friendship with Sypha and Trevor to evolve into something more. It was very difficult for him to deny how much he wanted to explore them both – especially with Sypha so close beside him – but he had to remain objective. That was hard to do with a wet naked girl practically in his lap. He was inexperienced, not blind. His body reacted to her proximity as he imagined any man’s would.

Heat blazing on his cheeks, he promptly extricated himself from the pool and wrapped a towel around his hips. “I should see to the itinerary and provisions for tomorrow’s departure. Please excuse me,” he turned and exited the room, leaving both Sypha and Trevor looking after him in surprise.

Do I smell that bad?” Trevor asked Sypha in genuine confusion.

“I don’t think that was it,” she answered with a little frown. She knew she was pushing Alucard. She also knew that she had a keen sense for people and she felt his loneliness and isolation as though she could poke it with a finger. She wished that he could see what was right in front of him. “I think we made him uncomfortable.”

Trevor rubbed his chin, as if considering her words, though he knew them to be true. He shrugged. “No shit. Don’t feel bad, he was gonna be uncomfortable either way. Lets finish up here and get some rest. I’m fucking beat.”

Trevor then dipped himself under the water and got down to the business of scrubbing a month of grime from his hair.

Sypha looked to the empty doorway through which their companion had hastily exited. Or more accurately, fled. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been in a ‘naked’ situation. She had thought she was reading things right, that Alucard had seemed both relaxed and to be enjoying himself. Over the past few weeks there had been a few instances where she and Trevor had seemed to be getting past their companion’s rigid walls, but each time there was a moment of intimacy, or almost intimacy, he disappeared. He always came back, and never talked about it. He seemed to want their companionship, their friendship. He seemed to be curious about more than that, but he just shut down any time that they turned their attention towards him. She sighed and turned back to the bath.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

Adrian had returned to the room after his swift escape from the suddenly unbearable company of his two traveling companions. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what part made him feel so… he didn’t even know the word for it. Awkward? Obtuse? Something along those lines, anyway. He’d felt suddenly like he didn’t belong there with Trevor and Sypha playing around, touching each other and him. It was too much. He didn’t mind watching them enjoy one another, but he simply could not relax when they turned their focus onto him. He liked the feeling of Sypha’s skin touching his, but had no idea how to respond. He hadn’t missed the way Trevor watched him either, like he was waiting to see if he would give in to her. He was telling him it was ok without saying anything at all. Just being in that situation was a message in itself. What sort of man would get naked in a hot bath with the woman he slept with and the man he traveled with and allow her to cuddle against them both? Obviously one who was open to something a bit unorthodox, though Adrian hadn’t determined what Trevor stood to gain. He already had Sypha’s affections.

He had a very strong urge to flee further. He pushed it down because he’d already done that before and it didn’t change anything. He always found himself back at their sides, because they three were going to work together to kill Dracula and he didn’t think he could do it alone. He'd tried facing his father once already and he had been woefully under prepared for it. He couldn’t do it without their help. He pulled off his boots, placing them neatly against the wall, out of the way. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hands over the rough sheets, tracing the edges of the quilts, pale gold eyes faraway.

He was skirting around the other reason for always returning to his friends, which was that he wanted to be near them. Adrian was not typically one to deceive himself, there was no point in it. He preferred to be direct and to the point. Well, then he had to come out and say it to himself. He was attracted to Trevor, and to Sypha. Trevor was rough and unrefined, he was harsh, witty, and direct. He was dangerous, skilled with a variety of combat styles, and he smelled really good despite all the hygiene jokes they made at his expense. Sypha was tough, kind, beautiful. She was incredibly perceptive, and could see things in people that Adrian would never have noticed. She was the one who had _seen_ him, it was her who had started to warm up to him, get closer to him. She spent time with him when she sensed he was lonely, times she could have been relaxing in between their travels. Both of them were absolutely fearless and brave in the face of every monster they had encountered, and they both thrived on the adventures of their journey. And they were good at killing things, like Adrian himself was.

If he allowed himself a bit of leeway to consider it, Adrian could almost handle the idea of Sypha or Trevor as more than just comrades. The part he really struggled with was the bigger picture. Why would they want to include him if they already had each other? Were they just curious to try something new? Were they drawn to him because of what he was? He had a hard time imagining Trevor wanting to do anything but kill a vampire. It had taken him weeks to warm up to Adrian when this had all started – he hadn’t even been willing to rest with the dhampir nearby in the first weeks. More to the point, what did Adrian himself want? He wasn’t foolish enough to envision a relationship with two humans, truthfully he had so little experience to draw from he had a hard time picturing anything specific beyond laying together and maybe kissing. Would they touch him, would they undress him, run their warm hands over his skin, through his hair? He knew he would like that, it sounded lovely, for someone else. For a human, with other humans.

His thoughts were cut short by the door creaking open to allow Trevor to enter, Sypha not far behind him. Adrian was seized by a sense of guilt, as if they would know what he’d been thinking about. Ridiculous. Trevor kicked his boots in the general direction of the wall. Sypha sat in the little chair and was fiddling with the lantern, adjusting the wick and lighting it after a moment. Adrian’s eyes adjusted to the sudden flare of light which cast large shadows on the walls of the room. He stiffened when Trevor sat beside him on the bed, smelling like soap, his hair clean and damp. Adrian looked at the door, wondering if it would be easier to run away like a coward. How shameful. Instead he shifted away from Trevor, the wooden slats creaking at his movements, the straw shifting in the mattresses sounding deafening. The small room seemed hot and airless suddenly. Trevor was looking at him intently, seemingly sober in defiance of all logic.

“Are you going to run away again?” he accused gently, one eyebrow arching slightly.

That strange feeling of being caught in a corner persisted. “I did not run away, I had to see to the-

“Oh bullshit. Nobody’s awake at this hour and we already have a plan, we don’t need an itemized list to ride off into the forest and kick the shit out of some undead fuckfaces. I know the way to the Belmont Hold, and it will take a few days to get there. We have plenty of provisions, and any meat we need we can catch since you’re faster than any jackrabbit. Now shut up about your excuses. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but our girl is persuasive and she’s brought me around to her way of thinking. And she thinks we’ll all be a lot happier if we just get it over with and screw.” Trevor’s gaze was unwavering. Adrian noted there was still a warm flush to his cheeks beneath the prickled stubble. The flush was mirrored in Adrian’s own face but for different reasons. He tried to make his voice formulate some kind of protest, but his tongue seemed dry and unresponsive. He opened his mouth and closed it again like a fish, trying to squirm away to gain some purchase out of the immediate radius of the man beside him, who’s heat he swore he could feel through their clothes.

Sypha blocked his retreat by sitting on the bed on his other side so he was sandwiched between them both. His instinct to escape had him almost leaping from between them, but Sypha’s hand stopped him, weaving her fingers together. She adjusted her position so she was facing him as she brought his hand to her lips to kiss each knuckle tenderly. Inching backwards, he felt Trevor’s chest behind him, pressing into him when he moved. He was trapped between them with his heart beating so fast he wondered if they could hear it.

“What Trevor meant to say,” Sypha fixed the hunter with a scolding glare, “Is that we like you Alucard, and we would like very much if you stayed with us tonight.”

Adrian stared at her like a mute, a thousand things flashing through his thoughts. He felt like he was spinning, like he couldn’t regain purchase. Trevor’s muscled arm wound boldly around his waist, crushing him into the broad chest. He fought down the urge to throw the man across the room. He felt breath tickling his ear, the gruff voice low, sending a shot of electricity down into his belly and stirring his most personal areas with unexpected heat. “Yeah, that’s what I meant to say,” he breathed against Adrian’s ear. Sypha’s hand came up to stroke through Adrian’s hair. Her eyes searched his for some indication that he would accept their affections, but he was unable to give her such confirmation. He wrenched himself from Trevor’s grasp – fingernails nearly digging into the man’s arm – and got to shaky legs, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them.

“What is the meaning of this?” Adrian pinned the two humans with a suspicious frown as he gathered his trench over his shoulders and searched for his boots while eyeing the path to the exit.

It was Trevor who stepped up and blocked him from retrieving his footwear. “Oh come on Alucard, don’t play stupid. We both see it, how come you can’t?”

“See what?”

He tried to go around, but Trevor caught him by the lapels, one in each hand. He worked the coat off, letting it fall to the floor. Adrian felt the wall pressing against his shoulder blades, Trevor’s heat bearing down on him.

“I think you know already,” he answered, pressing closer until the proximity was nearly overwhelming. A tiny twinge of desire worked through him, but it was still overshadowed by his discomfort. The sensation of Trevor’s body crushing him into the wall was too much for Adrian. He grabbed Trevor’s shoulders and swept a foot behind his legs, pushing him off balance, sending him tumbling backwards. The hunter reacted immediately and rolled back with the momentum of his fall, regaining his footing a few paces back and glaring at Adrian, who had jumped into the rafters in an instinctive bid to put some distance between them. He perched there for a tense moment, his fingertips digging into the wooden beam for purchase.

“Oh fuck off,” Trevor spat, “See, Sypha? I told you he wasn’t going to be into it. Waste of time,” with that Trevor brushed himself off and turned away from Adrian pointedly, sniffing and producing the bottle from earlier from some hidden pocket. He busied himself working the cork free and taking a long swallow.

Sypha wilted, looking between the two. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. It was my idea.”

Adrian stayed up on the rafter for the moment, the lantern smoke stinging his eyes. “What made you think I wanted to… to…” he trailed off, hoping the dim lighting hid his blush.

Sypha answered, her expression open. “Well, at first it was only because you seemed lonely, sometimes there is this aura of sadness around you. I wanted to make you feel happy, feel wanted. I talked to Trevor about it and after we started looking deeper we both realized that we wanted to be _with_ you. We noticed how you were watching us sometimes, how you couldn’t look away when we touched each other, or kissed. We gave it some time, but it hasn’t stopped. We thought you were interested in something more too. I suppose I misread the signals. I’m sorry Alucard, we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Sypha’s face was apologetic, full of sincerity. Adrian deflated, the rigidity going out of him. He was thinking about this exact thing the moment these two came into the room, and now that it was happening he was running away. He hopped silently to the floor, straightening to his full height and looking from Sypha’s face to Trevor’s. He felt himself reddening helplessly, his cheeks burning.

“I won’t deny that I’m uncomfortable. I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

Trevor regained his confidence and laughed at Adrian, grinning at him. “You mean you’ve never had a threesome?”

“I have not.”

“But you’ve fucked, right? I mean, a woman, a man, one of your vampire friends, or one of those gargoyles we were killing last week, whatever. You’ve had sex at some point.”

Adrian felt like the blush was creeping all the way to his ears now. He wasn’t given to fidgeting, but he shifted under the scrutiny and responded in a quieter voice than usual. “Not... exactly.”

Sypha slipped her hand into Adrian’s, looking up into his face. “You’re a virgin?”

“Sypha that’s ridiculous. Vampires are all about sex. If they aren’t having an orgy with each other they've got a harem of people tailing them. I mean have you looked at him? You think he hasn’t done it at least once? He’s prettier than most of the women. Its not like he’d have to try all that hard to convince one to screw.” Trevor flicked his blue stare back to meet Adrian’s gold one, realization dawning on him at the completely mortified look on the dhampir’s face. “Shit. Fuck, you’re not joking?”

Adrian stayed frozen in place, letting his silence speak for itself.

“You’re actually a virgin?”

Adrian pulled his fingers free from Sypha’s, fighting the urge to escape yet again. His insides felt like they were twisting into a knot. He’d made it this far, he could at least tell them truth. It made no sense to lie. “She’s right, I’ve never been with anyone. Between my education and then everything that happened in the last year or so it didn’t seem important.”

Trevor was at a momentary loss for words. “Oh,” he remarked as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “What are you even into? Women? Men? Humans? Vampires? Sheep?”

Adrian sensed the tension dissolving and relaxed back onto the edge of the bed again. He didn’t feel as cornered now that they were talking about the matter, even if they hadn’t said much yet. “I have honestly never considered that. When I was growing up I expected to eventually be married to a vampire for political purposes, but that isn’t something that is rushed when your lifespan is measured in centuries. Once my mother was killed that changed. I have a different responsibility now. Stopping my father’s genocide is more important than matters of the heart. I know you both understand that. Trevor, the first time we met you were perfectly ready to die, so long as you took me with you. You said that living through it would be a luxury. That’s how I see it. I don’t expect to live through it, but if I do, it will be to wait for him to come again, and to stop him again, over and over. As long as he wages war on the humans I will need to be on guard. I promised my mother that I would protect them.”

“That’s our plan too, to stop him and protect the people. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun in between,” Trevor grinned at his own comment, leaning against the desk and casually smacking Sypha’s rear.

She jumped in surprise and whirled on him, preparing to strike. “Rude! That hurt!”

He held up had hands in a gesture of surrender. “Ok, ok, sorry, jeeze. Nobody is any fun tonight.”

Adrian smiled slightly at their bickering, enjoying the feeling of being with these two despite the awkwardness of their situation. “I admit, I do find you both attractive, but I hadn’t realized until this evening that you might think about me that way.”

“That’s because you’re dense like a typical man,” Sypha supplied with a laugh, directing the last part of her comment to Trevor. She sat beside Adrian again, and this time he didn’t stiffen up or inch away. He could smell her clean skin, the traces of soap there. She touched his arm, meeting his eyes.

“Let’s just forget about all this pressure and get ready to sleep. Its been a long day.”

As she spoke she let her fingers explore Adrian’s long blonde hair, carding through it slowly. He relaxed into her touch, the tension melting away from his shoulders, his posture easing as she raked her fingers against his scalp. He closed his eyes, the fingers trailing down to the nape of his neck, over the muscles of his shoulders and upper back.

The touch was heavenly. They still hadn’t talked this all through, talked about what was between them, about whether or not he would be staying in the actual bed with them for tonight, but her fingers were making him forget about the details. Adrian allowed her to pull open the strings of his shirt, loosening them and working the garment over his head in a fluid motion. He heard it fall to the floor and the bed dipped under Trevor’s weight as he joined them. Adrian nearly groaned when a larger set of very warm hands touched his shoulders. He didn’t dare say anything lest he ruin this brief and unexpected moment of physical contact. His skin prickled with a wave of goosebumps when Sypha dragged her palms down his chest, rubbing him lightly, working the muscles superficially. She pulled one of his hands into both of hers and began to work the palm and fingers while Trevor’s larger, warmer hands gripped and kneaded the muscles of his shoulders and rubbed along his spine, up his neck to the base of his skull.

He had rarely felt so relaxed, and had never been the subject of so much attention. He felt disconnected from it, as though it weren't real. He let his lips part, relaxing his jaw and keeping his eyes closed for the moment, getting accustomed to the sounds of Trevor’s breath just behind him, and Sypha’s at his side. They were lavishing him with gentle touches, relaxing him, making it hard to think straight. He felt Trevor’s hands in his hair, pulling it gently back, away from his face, sweeping it off his neck and gathering the mass of blonde in his large palm. He tensed momentarily when he felt breath at his ear again, but this time he was ok with it. Trevor closed his teeth gently on the shell of his ear, sending tickling sensations through him and making him shiver despite the warmth of the room. He was exposed, vulnerable in this position. How easily they could kill him if that were their intention. He had his throat bared to a damned Belmont, a vampire hunter, and he was doing it willingly.

It was that thought that was his tipping point. That was the thought that sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. Trevor continued his exploration of Adrian’s ear, nibbling the lobe and kissing the place where his jaw met his ear lightly. Adrian heard himself make some undignified noise in his throat and swallowed thickly in hopes that they hadn’t heard. What were they doing to him?

Sypha released his hand, drawing Adrian’s curious gaze as she stood up. He followed her fingers as they pulled at the ties to her robe. She slipped it off, standing only in her shift before the two men. Her breasts were small and high, outlined beneath the thin fabric. She had a lovely curve to her hips, a pinched waist, and shapely legs. She slipped the straps of the shift over her shoulders and let it drop around her, leaving her naked before them both for the second time that evening. Trevor’s chest rumbled in appreciation against his back, the kisses along his neck and jaw becoming more insistent. Adrian wasn’t sure he was ready to be this close with them, but he was having a hard time remembering why he shouldn’t just go ahead with it, being fondled and massaged by them both as he was. Sypha pulled the covers back and crawled onto the bed, tugging at Trevor’s elbow until he acquiesced, pausing his work unraveling the blonde to stand up and work his way out of his clothing.

Adrian stared at him openly, having never looked at a man this way before. He had never really noticed the Belmont heir’s body in detail except to assess his combat ability. Now he was treated to a show, the muscled arms raising his shirt over his head and flinging it away. He revealed a well-built torso, obliques and abdominal muscles defined, his skin a dark tan. Trevor was not very hairy, with only a light dusting over his chest and a small dark trail leading into his breeches. He did have a number of scars and punctures and the occasional slash or claw mark that had healed but not disappeared over time. He was certainly more heavily built than Adrian himself was, his shoulders broad, his neck thicker. Trevor grinned when he caught Adrian staring and Sypha made a pleased noise of encouragement. Not that he needed more motivation, but he certainly accepted the extra attention readily.

Adrian was aware that the situation was rapidly becoming cramped in his lower half, and while this stripping off was having the desired effect, he was still not sure he was ready to be naked in a bed with these two. He adjusted himself and Sypha came around him and put her hand over his to feel him through his clothing.

He sank against her, panting, hardening further under her fingers. Her body was so soft against him, but her touches were firm and confident. She began to pull at the strings of his fly as Trevor mirrored the action on himself. He pushed his clothes off, stepping out of them and finally standing naked before the other two, partially engorged, thighs powerfully muscled and not an ounce of shame in his nakedness. Adrian forgot to breathe.

Sypha slipped her thumbs into the waist of Adrian’s pants and pushed insistently until he acquiesced, raising his hips so she could slip them off. He pushed them the rest of the way past his knees and to the floor, kicking them off. Sypha put her arms around him and nuzzled his neck, kissing him as her hands explored his skin.

“Alucard your skin is so soft, and you smell good, especially right here,” She said, kissing where his chest and collarbone met to indicate the place she preferred. Adrian was still looking at Trevor, embarrassed by how turned on he was. He tried to keep himself from blatantly staring at the other man’s cock, which was mostly erect by this point. Trevor was watching him with obvious enjoyment. He rejoined the pair on the bed, this time putting Sypha in the middle. She was busy keeping Adrian relaxed, kissing him and touching him all over. She kept sniffing his skin, then kissing her way upwards. Finally she climbed into his lap, straddling him. She reached between them and positioned his cock so it was not pressing against her sex directly, rather it lay between their bodies, the underside pressing on her mound. The soft curled patch there was so hot, Adrian came to his full hardness, his hips twitching at the feeling.

She must have felt him throb against her sex, because her hips jerked in response. She was now mouthing his throat, nipping the skin gently. He sucked in a breath, feeling his vampire instincts stir at the attention to this very vulnerable and sensitive area. Trevor smoothed a hand over Sypha’s back and palmed her ass approvingly, fingers swiping down between her legs, cupping her sex and dragging his fingertips over her folds. Adrian could smell her arousal. His senses became sharper when his instincts were awakened, as they were becoming now. The pheromones from both of his companions were having a powerful effect on his ability to think rationally. Trevor leaned in and claimed the other side of his throat, prickling him with the stubble on his chin, his blunt teeth and warm breath driving Adrian to near insanity.

He wanted to say something, to try to tell them that it was too much, but they’d stolen his voice with their affections. He brought a hand up to explore Trevor’s hair, his body rocking helplessly against Sypha. She had his organ pinned between them so his movements only gave a small amount of friction, and no relief from the building pleasure. Her mouth released his throat and she straightened against him, pressing her breasts into his chest and met him face to face.

Her cheeks were rosy, the fine freckles that dusted them visible against the reddened skin. She leaned into him, touching their foreheads together and nuzzling him gently. He blinked at her in between the haze that Trevor was causing with his attentions at his throat. He was sure that his eyes had a touch of red and he wanted to look away but Sypha captured his mouth in a tender kiss before he could do anything else.

Her lips were so soft, Adrian shuddered at the sensation of them on his own. She explored him slowly, not rushing, not pushing him. She was gentle in this, and Trevor gave him some respite from the intense sucking and biting at his throat so he could watch them. Adrian’s fingers were curled in the other man’s hair, helplessly tugging at it as his body responded to the sensation of his first kiss. Sypha expertly lavished his lips and jaw with many soft pecks, then her tongue sought entry between his lips and touched against his, just a small touch with the tip. He moaned into her mouth as his fangs gave a throb of pleasure and he tentatively returned her exploration with one of his own. He felt like she was guiding him, showing him what to do. He gained some confidence and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, crushing her to his chest as she excited him further. He pushed his lips harder against hers, feeling himself unravel a bit, doing what felt natural to him. He had to break the kiss to let her breathe after several more intense seconds of exploration. He was panting as well, certain of the redness in the whites of his eyes. He didn’t have a chance to be concerned about it though because Sypha smiled broadly at him and leaned back, twisting to meet Trevor’s mouth in a deep kiss, this one practiced and familiar, and less gentle. Adrian’s arm was still around her. Trevor tangled their fingers together and pulled Sypha close between them. The tendons in his neck worked beneath the skin as their mouths worked together in a heated coupling. When they broke from one another they were both panting and Sypha’s cheeks were even more flushed.

“You’re so fuckin beautiful,” Trevor told her in a low voice and she put her forehead to his.

Trevor then turned his focus to Adrian, kissing his jaw, that roughness of his stubble scraping lightly against the dhampir’s skin. He studied the other man briefly, his eyes pausing when he noted the redness that was a sign of his vampire side showing through. Adrian thought he would pull away in offense, but instead he leaned in closer, their breaths mixing before he captured Adrian’s mouth in a deep kiss. Where Sypha was gentle and patient, Trevor was demanding. He coaxed Adrian’s mouth open and probed with his tongue, a strong arm winding around his back and his hand curling into the hair at the base of his skull, tilting his head back, opening him for the hunter to explore as he pleased. Adrian’s brain was barely functioning by this point, overwhelmed by a mix of sensation, shock and arousal. This was all completely new to him; these sensations, this closeness. He had never imagined his first kiss would be with two people at once, or with a naked girl straddling him. Trevor’s tongue boldly ran along his own, the contact going straight to his cock which was harder than it had ever been. He ran it along Adrian’s teeth, curiously tracing the length of one fang. He dragged it along the tip being careful not to cut himself on the sharp point. The effect was nearly overwhelming, Adrian’s body tightening all over, his vampire side pushing an involuntary growl from him and his claws lengthening before he realized what was happening. He twisted out of the kiss, needing a moment to gather himself. He was not driven by thirst as full vampires were, but arousal brought out this side of him more strongly than he had expected. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to regain his composure.

When he opened them again Trevor gave him a questioning look. “You good?”

Adrian nodded a bit hesitantly. Neither of his partners seemed to mind the evidence of his inhuman side. Encouraged, he relaxed, tightening his fingers in Trevor’s. This was still a lot for him and he needed some reassurance that this was actually happening. If he hadn’t been able to feel and smell them he would have thought it was a strange elaborate dream.

He was still sitting with his legs over the side of the bed. Sypha crawled off of him and moved into the bed, patting the space beside her. Adrian gave her a nervous look, glancing back to Trevor.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for… for all of this,” he admitted, his eyes on Trevor’s organ, which was fully engorged now, bobbing in his lap. It was larger than his own, and thicker around.

Sypha tugged the dhampir’s hand, coaxing him to scoot across the bed and sit beside her. Her hands ran over his thigh while Trevor adjusted his position so he was laying comfortably on Adrian’s other side. Sypha worked her fingers into his hair again, scratching his scalp lightly. It had the intended effect, calming his nerves somewhat.

“You don’t have to do anything Alucard, want to just watch?” She offered, trailing her hand over his back reassuringly.

“I’ll give you something to watch,” Trevor promised with a devious smile, catching Sypha’s free hand and tugging her onto him. She knelt between his legs but gave him a scolding glare.

“Oh you’re worse than an animal, honestly. Can’t you see we’re pushing it too far too fast?” She pulled the blanket up and threw it over Trevor’s waist. Adrian relaxed slightly. Sypha understood. She got it. This was going way faster than he was comfortable with. A minute ago he was getting his first kiss, and that was already plenty for him to process.

Trevor pouted at her rebuke. “Well I’m not going to be able to sleep with this ridiculous hard-on, you can’t just leave me like this. And him too!” The hunter jerked a thumb to Adrian, indicating his own erection, which had softened some with his discomfort. Adrian covered himself with his hands, pulling a corner of the blanket into his lap in attempted modesty.

She snorted, “Oh I can. You won’t die from a boner.”

“Its not the boner that will kill me, its the blue balls.”

“That won’t kill you either,” Sypha assured him. “Its bed time. Lets get some sleep. We can continue this tomorrow.” She hopped off him and out of the bed. She put the lantern out, plunging the room into darkness. Adrian’s eyes adjusted quickly, though it was nearly pitch black in the room. Sypha was feeling her way back to the bed. He took her hand and guided her in, extremely grateful for her perceptiveness and her understanding. His mind was reeling already with the events of the evening. She shuffled her way in between he and Trevor, pulling both men against her. He could see the contented smile on her lips in the darkness, and Trevor’s relaxed expression when she pulled the man’s arm over her middle. She let out a sigh, her body relaxing easily. Trevor leaned over and kissed her gently, his fingers curled around her hip.

The room became quiet except for their breathing and the faint sound of wind picking up outside. It was warm and cozy, and had to be one of the most relaxing places Adrian had ever been. For all his inexperience there was an easiness between them that made this feel natural. He was not in the habit of letting his guard down around others, but he thought he would be ok if he fell asleep here. He wanted to try it, see what it was like to sleep in a bed with another person (or two). He closed his eyes, snaking his hand around Sypha’s middle, his arm resting against Trevor’s.

The silence didn’t last long.

“You can’t honestly expect me to just roll over and forget how fucking hot that whole thing was,” Trevor began after only a few seconds.

Adrian smiled into Sypha’s side, not surprised that he was still excited. It _had_ been extremely arousing and nobody had been properly satisfied. It was only his inexperience that had made him uncomfortable enough to stop things getting more intense. It wouldn’t take very much to bring him right back to where he’d been a few minutes ago. After all, he hadn’t had a physical release in a considerable amount of time. He was still half-hard. He was simply very practiced at denying himself.

“Trevor Belmont,” Sypha said his name dangerously, “If you don’t shut up I will freeze your balls into a block of ice and you will definitely be the last Belmont ever to walk the Earth,” she promised in a no-bullshit tone of voice.

Adrian laughed at that. “Sypha, be nice,” he admonished gently.

“Yeah Sypha, be nice to me.”

“Alucard you can’t encourage him, it will make it worse. Ow!” Sypha jumped when Trevor pinched her. She slapped his hand away.

“Aw come on I was just playing around,” the pout in his voice was evident.

“You two can play with each other, I’m tired.”

She wiggled out from between them and climbed over to Adrian’s other side, pushing him into the middle and putting distance between herself and Trevor. He found himself staring into the other man’s face in the dark. He saw his features clearly, and felt his considerable warmth. The humour had cleared away some of the awkwardness he’d been feeling before, so he was better able to relax. Sypha snuggled against his back, throwing an arm around his middle and tucking her knees behind his. She kissed his shoulder and mumbled goodnight. It was incredibly warm and pleasant to be sandwiched between the two of them; their bodies felt very hot to him since his natural temperature was lower than theirs. The difference was lovely.

Trevor shifted one arm under Adrian’s head and wrapped his other arm around his middle, their legs tangling together until they both were comfortable. Adrian found his face near Trevor’s chest, against his heart. He could clearly hear the organ’s steady drumming rhythm. Trevor buried his nose in Adrian’s hair. Behind him, Sypha’s breathing evened out as she was quickly claimed by sleep. Adrian had never been so comfortable as he was now, tucked between his two companions.

“Hey,” Trevor said after a few minutes, speaking quietly against the dhampir’s hair.

He shifted his face up, their noses nearly touching. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you didn’t run away tonight. That was fun,” he said, punctuating his statement with a small kiss.

Adrian nodded against him in agreement, their breath mingling in the dark.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded again.

“Why’d you pull away from me before, when I kissed you?”

Adrian tensed, pushing himself a few inches from Trevor so he could look in his eyes as he remembered his vampire features showing through when he’d become very aroused. He thought for a minute on what to say, he wasn’t even sure himself. He hadn’t wanted them to see the things that proved he wasn’t human. “I… didn’t want you to see me that way,” he said finally, unsure if that really conveyed what he meant. “I didn’t know it would happen. I’ll keep better control next time.”

Trevor made a low noise of acknowledgment and closed the distance between them, covering Adrian’s mouth with his own in a deep kiss, slower than before, but no less insistent. The arm he had around his middle tightened, pulling him against the hunter firmly as he parted his lips once more to deepen the kiss and insert his tongue. Adrian was ready for his body’s reaction this time, and he didn’t let it overwhelm him. Trevor explored his mouth, the sensations heightened in the quiet darkness. When they broke the kiss Adrian panted, his lips tingling.

“Guess you’re better prepared now,” he teased, his hand cupping a pale cheek. The pad of his thumb dragged over Adrian’s lips. He could feel the rough texture of the hunter’s palm and the callouses on his fingers. “You know it was fuckin’ sexy when you got all turned on and vamped out, made me hard.”

He took Adrian’s hand from around his middle and moved it between them, putting it on his swollen cock. “See? I’m still hard as fuck just from kissing you.”

“You’ve got a real way with words, Belmont.”

Trevor laughed, his teeth flashing in the dark. “What can I say, seeing you like that was hot,” he wrapped his hand over Adrian’s, stroking it along his hardened organ slowly and moving to catch the dhampir’s lips again.

Adrian twisted his face to the side, avoiding the kiss and withdrawing his hand. “I must be a fascinating novelty,” he answered in an irritated tone. “Did you just want to see what it was like with a vampire? Something different?” he pulled back another few inches and Trevor stopped him, grabbing his wrist and shooting him a disbelieving look.

“For fuck’s sake you’re such a girl Alucard. I was trying to give you a compliment. There’s a bit of a taboo to some of this, sure, but that’s not what I meant. Don’t be a twat. I told you I think its fucking sexy because I thought you going all vampire on me meant you were turned on, that you liked how we were touching you. Not because I was specifically interested in things that made you different from a human.”

“Oh,” Adrian felt his cheeks warming and was glad that Trevor couldn’t see in the dark. He’d obviously misread that quite badly. He was embarrassed that he had so little faith in this man who had clearly been nothing but honest with him. “This is a new experience for me. I don’t know the rules.”

“Rules? There’s only one. Just do what makes us all feel good. Ok maybe two, don’t be a whiny bit-” That sentence ended with Trevor’s sharp intake of breath as Adrian dug his fingers into the hunters hair and tipped his head back to cover his mouth in a thorough kiss. He responded with a noise of pleasure and moved closer. The blonde adjusted himself so he was propped up on an elbow, rolling Trevor onto his back so he could touch him more easily. He released his mouth, running a hand along his body in exploration. Trevor seemed to enjoy the attention, smiling against his lips. His fingers threaded into Adrian’s hair, sifting the soft gold strands between his digits. His body was all taught muscle and heat.

Encouraged by his partner’s receptiveness, Adrian was emboldened. Did his vampire features really turn this man on? He experimentally lengthened his fingernails into short claws. He knew Trevor couldn’t see them in the dark, but he could feel them. He cupped his face, curling his fingers so the claws dragged gently against his flesh, through the stubble on his jaw, down his neck, along his chest.

“Fuck,” Trevor groaned, arching under him. “That feels… are those your claws?” he asked, breath hitching.

“They are,” the blonde answered, speaking close to Trevor’s ear. He was feeling much better about all of this after talking about it. He appreciated that Trevor was very direct and didn’t beat around the bush or sugarcoat things. He said what he meant. And he’d said that he found these things attractive. Actually, he said they were ‘fuckin’ sexy’

to be accurate.

“Fucking vampire Jesus,” Trevor mumbled, his body taught beneath the clawed fingertips which were dragging over his hip.

“What?”

“Nothing, don’t stop,” he urged as Adrian’s hand went lower, approaching his cock. He was careful not to scratch there, but he did lightly drag his claws along the pale inner thighs, touching around his genitals, but avoiding them for the time being. It seemed like this made him even harder than he already was. Trevor’s body arched as he tried to gain more contact. He was breathing heavier, his fingers twisting in Adrian’s hair, trying to pull him in for another kiss.

“Tell me what you like,” Adrian ventured bravely, still not really believing that he was doing this, but feeling very confident based on Trevor’s reactions.

“Use your mouth,” came the quick answer to his question.

“My mouth? On your...” Adrian trailed off. Well he’d walked right into that one. Could he really do that?

“On my dick, you can say it, you have one too. Put your mouth on my dick, put it on my skin, put it on whatever the fuck you want. Fuck. I’m so hard after all this teasing all night I’m probably going to cum the second you touch it. Come here, let me feel you.” Trevor reached between them until his hand contacted Adrian’s body. His large rough palm pressed into him, grabbing at his chest and rubbing along his torso, sliding over his ass and grabbing the rounded flesh there firmly. He pulled Adrian tighter against him, grinding his body against the lithe form, growling at the friction. Adrian bent forward and kissed Trevor again, working up the nerve to try it lower. Trevor’s mouth opened to him easily, their tongues meeting, sliding against one another briefly, lips wet. Trevor’s tongue ran along Adrian’s teeth, searching out his fangs like he had before. The effect was intense, the teasing pressure on his fangs triggering his instincts. Now that he was more comfortable with the reaction and less surprised he let it happen, let his instincts go a bit, since that seemed to be what Trevor wanted. He lightly nipped the hunter’s lip with his fangs, not enough to break the skin, just enough so he was sure the hunter felt it and knew what it was. The reaction was instantaneous. He ground his erection against Adrian’s hip, a string of unintelligible profanity denoting his enjoyment. The hunter was flushed, his skin hot. Adrian worked his way to Trevor’s jaw, scraping his fangs along the edge of it as he had done with his claws before.

“Alucard fuck, that’s… oh fucking shit that’s so hot.”

Adrian thought a bit of teasing was in order. He wouldn’t bite, he rarely drank blood and he had absolute control over his appetite for such things, but Trevor didn’t know that. He moved down from the angled jaw to the hunter’s throat, kissing along its length and down to his collarbone. He opened his mouth against the taught skin, licking the salt and closing his teeth gently over the flesh.

Trevor froze, his pleasure momentarily interrupted by his instinct of self preservation. His eyes popped open and he tried to squirm away. Adrian held him fast, pinning him easily. He dragged his teeth over the spot again, laying his body atop the hunter’s to keep him from escaping. Trevor tried to move, but Adrian had a knee between his legs and both of his wrists held fast. He mouthed the area again, feeling the carotid pulsing under his lips.

“Hey, fuck off!” his voice rose in pitch, belying a fear he would certainly never admit to out loud.

“I was only tasting your skin,” Adrian answered, letting him free after another second. “Did you think I was going to bite you?”

“You’re an asshole,” Trevor answered, trying to recover his pride. He pushed Adrian off of him. “Sypha was wrong. I’m definitely going to die of blue balls.”

Adrian smiled in the dark, laying down beside Trevor. “I thought it was ‘fuckin’ hot’ when I ‘vamped out’ on you?”

Trevor snorted. “It is. But I don’t know that I’m up for sharing my blood just yet, or ever. Kind of goes against the family code, you know?”

“You are assuming I would even want it. I don’t have the same needs as full vampires.”

“You’ve got fangs and when I met you you were sleeping in a coffin. Sounds like a vampire to me. Forgive me for not being more educated on the particularities.”

“Perhaps I’ll give you a crash course someday.”

“I am a terrible student. You’d kick me out of your class after an hour.”

“Undoubtedly,” he laced his fingers into Trevor’s, resting their hands on the hunter’s chest. Outside the wind was beginning to howl, the oiled skin over the small window fluttering. “I almost never drink human blood. I can live without it.”

There was a pause, as his bed-mate absorbed this information. “I thought even half-vampires needed to drink blood. My family’s library had books that said dhampir need some blood or they lose their strength.”

Adrian had never discussed these matters with anyone aside from his own family. He studied the hunter’s profile for a moment, considering his response. “That is partly true. Human blood significantly increases my strength and endurance, but its not needed. Animal blood serves as a decent substitute, and most often I eat the same food you do, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, I did notice that. So you never drink from people?”

“Not really. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Awww, look at you, the _nice_ vampire. A virgin, and a pacifist. I never thought I’d be one one who fucked _and_ killed the most between us all.”

“Well I did spend some time quite literally living under a rock, so you’ll have to give me a chance to catch up.”

Trevor laughed at that and adjusted himself, pulling the blanket over their hips and crushing Adrian against him more tightly. Sypha stirred, rolling over so her back was against Adrian’s. She mumbled something in her dreams and stilled once more.

Adrian untangled his fingers from Trevor’s, tracing a digit over one of the larger scars that marked the man’s skin. The line of puckered tissue stretched across his sternum, spanning nearly eight inches. The scar was white with age, but still showed how deep the injury had been. “What made this?”

Trevor’s hand came up to feel at the place Adrian indicated, since he couldn’t see in the dark. “Oh that was a long time ago. Right after the excommunication. If it hadn’t been over bone I think I’d be worm food right now.”

“What happened?”

The answer didn’t come right away. Adrian could see that he was remembering – deep sadness flashed on his face – but he didn’t immediately speak. Outside the wind was now accompanied by the tapping of raindrops. He could hear them striking the roof over their heads.

“I hesitated. I was a lot younger, I didn’t have much experience fighting yet, or any good weapons. It was a monster I’d been tracking, trying to collect a bounty. If I hadn’t passed out after it got me I’m sure it would have finished the job. It must have thought I was dead and by some fucked up miracle it didn’t eat me. I don’t remember everything, but I had a fever and some people eventually found me and carried me to their farm house. They gave me broth and bandaged the wound and I slept for a long time.” Trevor’s eyes were far away, caught in the memory. “They were all dead when I woke up. Turns out the thing had come back for me but found them first.” Trevor snorted cynically. “I learned to kill first and ask questions later after that.”

Adrian saw way Trevor’s eyes hardened as he remembered. “How old were you?”

“I don’t know, maybe thirteen? Fourteen? It was a long time ago. Doesn’t matter now. I don’t hesitate anymore.”

Adrian moved on from the scar, amazed that he was actually laying with Trevor like this, Sypha’s warmth still curled behind him as she slept soundly. “That’s so young to be on your own. I was still living at the castle, receiving my formal education at that age. I may have grown up quickly, but I spent more time than most humans would on studies. It was very important to my parents that I learn as much as possible.”

“Yeah, well I guess we weren’t all pampered like you. The church turned on my family and forced us out of our home. They killed my parents. I had two choices: stick around and suffer the same fate or get the fuck out of there. I’ve been on my own since then.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Life’s hard.”

Their conversation died down after that and the rain outside intensified. It beat on the roof and drowned out everything that wasn’t right there in the room. Adrian yawned, leaning in to give Trevor a kiss on the cheek. He was staring up at the darkened rafters, still remembering.

“Go to sleep. Remembering the past won’t change it.”

The hunter didn’t answer him, but he did pull the blankets up to cover the three of them. Adrian turned on his side to scoop Sypha into his arms and Trevor followed suit, holding them both. He kissed the back of Adrian’s head, nose in his hair.

Adrian fell asleep surrounded by their warmth and their scents. He didn’t dream, he didn’t worry. He just felt safe and wanted like he never had before.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

The morning came on slowly, the sky reluctant to give up the darkness under heavy cover of clouds and the continuous beating of rain on the roof. Adrian was always a light sleeper – that was thanks in part to being something of a predator – and normally he would resume consciousness quickly and immediately be wide awake. This day came differently, little at a time. His first sense was of incredible heat all around him, of feeling comfortable, if somewhat cramped. Slowly the heat gave way to the sounds of breathing, then the scent of Sypha’s hair and skin near his face, the feeling of Trevor’s leg thrown over him and the man’s sweat making them stick together.

He couldn’t bring himself to move. He was fairly sure this was just a pleasant dream and he certainly didn’t want to spoil it by waking up. He cracked a tentative eye, the room dimly lit by the small rectangle of the window with its oiled skin stretched taut. His first sight was of Sypha, her skin appearing very white in the low light. Her body was tucked tightly against his chest, partly covered by the quilts, but her bare shoulder and arm were out. Adrian had his arm around her, holding her in sleep. His nose was right against the back of her neck, the short hairs there tickling him. Her scent was lovely. She was breathing deeply and hadn’t stirred much at all.

Adrian craned his neck and ventured a peek at their other bedmate, who’s face was very different in the clutch of sleep. Usually Trevor wore a small frown but now he appeared relaxed, his lips slack. He laid on his back, taking at least half the bed, having pushed both Adrian and Sypha closer to the opposite side in a bid to stretch out and get comfortable. He had kicked most of the blankets off himself. One leg was hanging off the bed entirely, the other draped over Adrian and Sypha. He snored loudly, a bit of drool leaking from one corner of his mouth. He had one arm folded behind his head – his pillow was gone, pushed onto the floor evidently – the other lay over his stomach, palm and fingers curled slightly. Adrian studied the hand, thickened with muscle, fingernails short and sort of jagged, crescents of dirt beneath them despite their bath the night before. Even his hand was scarred, and one nail was stained black where it had been crushed somehow. Trevor was still deeply asleep, but there was at least one part of his anatomy which had risen to meet the day.

Without anyone to see him staring he took a few seconds to study the hunter’s body. His organ jutted up from a nest of dark curled pubic hair. The tip just barely brushed the hardened muscle of his belly. His tan skin was darker here, and there was a distinct vein that curled along the shaft. He was thicker than Adrian himself, as he’d noticed before, though in length they were similar. Adrian had never thought much about his own appearance; he wasn’t self-conscious, he had never worried that he may be in any way inadequate. He knew he was both attractive and well-built, but he appreciated drawing some comparison of the differences between himself and the other man. Trevor was just a stalkier, heavier muscled person. Adrian was a few inches taller but Trevor outweighed him thanks to that additional musculature. He certainly wasn’t over-built, he retained great range of motion and speed in battle and had decent endurance for a human. Adrian was long and lean all over, even his fingers were more slender and more delicate. He didn’t have the broadness to his chest that Trevor had, his shoulders weren’t as heavily muscled.

He had read that some of his bodily attributes could be related to being dhampir. He always thought he simply took after his mother, height notwithstanding. Lisa had been pale, blonde, finely beautiful and delicate in her hands, face and general structure. His father was, by contrast, a very tall man, unusually so, and was overall powerfully built. He had a very wide stance and large hands, everything about him was broad. But then Adrian had often considered that his father was not really a man at all, nor was he a typical vampire. The discussion about _what_ Vlad Dracula Tepes actually was had always been a delicate one. Such topics were fiercely personal to him and tentative inquiries were always shut down or the conversation steered elsewhere. Dracula was not about to reveal those details to anyone, not even his own son. There _was_ information available to him about dhampir, however. His pale eyes and hair, his slightly pointed ears and his androgynous structure and musculature were consistent with information he’d read about the few other individuals that were like him. But they also had limited lifespans, and while they were powerful, Adrian knew he was stronger than what those books described. There really wasn’t another being for him to draw a direct comparison to. He was one of a kind.

Lost in his thoughts, he let the minutes tick by to the beat of the rain. He relaxed against his pillow between his friends and close his eyes, remembering times that were long since past and only alive in his mind. Gradually Sypha stirred against his side. She stretched and changed positions, turning to face him and drape herself over him, splaying her hand over his bare chest. She blinked sleepily and studied his face, giving him a warm, quiet smile. They had an unspoken easiness, he and Sypha. She inched up on one elbow to place her lips over his in a soft kiss, the hand on his chest coming up to smooth over a tendril of his hair which curled there. He could feel the heat of her core pressing against his hip. His body responded in turn, hardening in answer to the sensation and especially to his thoughts about her anatomy against him like that. She smoothed her hand back over his chest, fingers tracing the massive scar that still marred it. He hoped she didn’t mention it. While he had never been concerned about his appearance, he was self-conscious about that one imperfection. Vampires were supposed to be unmarked. Having visible scars was evidence of losing a battle, and somehow he was embarrassed by that. And of course it brought up a whole slew of horrible and painful memories around the battle with his father, his father wounding him mortally, and his ongoing mission to terminate Dracula at any cost. That was a whole other topic in and of itself and he didn’t want to think about that and spoil this moment.

Sypha, ever tactful and perceptive, did not say anything about the mark. She only met his eyes in understanding and moved on, her warm, small palm slipping beneath the covers and following the line of his abdomen downward. He was still well aware of the heat between her legs against his thigh. The blanket began to tent as his organ rose beneath it. She glanced at it knowingly and rubbed his stomach, slowly circling her hand lower until she was touching the crest of his hip, then his thigh. Adrian sighed softly, letting his head relax on the pillow at the pleasure of her touch. It was easier to relax now that the awkwardness from yesterday had passed and they had all spent the night together in the same bed. He didn’t feel so tense at the idea of being touched. She leaned up and kissed him again, deeper now while her hand played over his hip, making him shiver. It was so sensitive there, he had never realized before. Her lips were full and soft on his, her mouth opening to him, urging him to explore her. Her hips pressed into him in answer when his tongue met hers, the tips sliding over one another briefly. He felt the muscles in her belly tighten and he made a low noise of pleasure at her reaction. It felt very good to affect her body this way. He had never actually seen a woman’s privates until last night and though she had boldly straddled him when she kissed him yesterday, he had not really touched her there, or looked at her closely. He’d been otherwise engaged. Now she was inviting him to explore her further, and she was doing the same, learning his body through her fingers and lips. Her hand ghosted over his body, curling with teasing lightness over his cock. He couldn’t help the way his hips jumped, and he felt her body react too, obviously aroused by his small reaction to her touch.

She stroked him a bit more firmly. He felt the pleasure coiling deep in his belly and he grasped at her, wanting to touch her and make her feel good too. He deepened the kiss but she pulled away slightly and peppered his lips with smaller kisses, still gripping him but only enough to coax him into further arousal, not enough to satisfy the desire building in his body. Adrian’s hands found her hair and he ran his fingers through the short copper curls as she worked him into a state of greater need. He realized vaguely that he was panting against her, and she was pressing her core against him each time his hips moved at her touch. The thought of that part of her body, the scent of it was enough to bring a touch of red to his eyes. He didn’t worry about it this time, and simply urged her on, trying to get her to grasp him more firmly. She smirked when he bucked into her hand and released it. At the loss of her touch he stared at her in question and she leaned in for another teasing kiss, then began to trail kisses down his throat, teeth closing over the flesh gently, sucking at it hard enough to leave a small bruising hickey in her wake. He felt himself unraveling at the sensation. What was she doing to him? The attention at his throat stirred that animal side of him in a way he had never shared with anyone but her and Trevor. His mouth fell open and he moaned, the sound coming out like an _unnhhh_ noise that he hardly recognized as his own vocalization. He was so hard now that just the blanket touching him felt like a tease.

She adjusted herself so she was laying over him partly, her small body soft and warm against his bare flesh. She was giving him another bruised mark beside the first one at his throat, sucking the flesh between her lips and nipping lightly with her blunt teeth. Her sex was over his thigh now, one of her knees between his legs, the heat and apparent moistness driving him mad. He wanted to know what she felt like, what she tasted like there, he wanted more of her scent. He palmed her buttock with one hand, squeezing and slipping his fingers along her hip, stroking the length of her body like she had done to him. He knew how good it felt. She melted against him, her breath quickening at his touches. She was encouraged to track her mouth lower, now over his pectoral, then along his belly. Before he knew it she was kneeling between his legs and had pulled the covers back and was looking up at him with clear blue eyes while his cock twitched before her. He thought if she put her mouth on it he might explode right away. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to pleasuring himself, but as a twenty year old man, dhampir, whatever, his body had no shortage of hormones. He often found himself in need of release, but the business of it was something he rarely felt comfortable with, and as such he had a bit of a backlog in the orgasm and ejaculation department.

Trevor had been sleeping soundly through most of this so far. Adrian had nearly forgotten about him laying beside them, but he was startled when he looked over and found that the hunter was on his side, watching them with a lazy smile on his face and his cock in his hand. Adrian’s eyes widened and he had an odd feeling of being caught at something, a sort of guilt which was automatic. Trevor didn’t say anything, he made no move to join in for the moment, rather he seemed content to watch Sypha play Adrian’s body like a familiar instrument. At the sight of Trevor masturbating Adrian's breath hitched in his chest. It was… very hot. Adrian felt his dick twitch and was sure that it was weeping with his excitement. This was sensory overload and Sypha had barely touched him yet.

His eyes flicked back to her and she gave him a knowing look, seeing the blush spreading over his cheeks at their being watched by Trevor. She closed the distance between her face and his straining organ, slowly, licking along the underside with agonizing slowness from base to tip.

Adrian’s vision wavered at the heat and friction of her tongue on his body. She closed one hand around the base of his cock, holding it in place so she could lavish more attention on it with her mouth. She teased her tongue around the head, moving in lazy circles, making lots of contact between the flat of her tongue and the head of his cock. He was so hard that the head was fully exposed, his hips moving helplessly as she touched him. When she pushed the whole of him into her mouth, into her throat, moving her head up and down a couple times then releasing him he shuddered and had to fight the very real possibility that he was going to come.

“I… Sypha I might...” he admitted breathlessly when she resumed licking the underside of him again, punctuating her actions with strokes of her hand along his whole length. He thought he might be hyperventilating, he couldn’t be certain. He knew now his eyes were definitely reddened, probably almost glowing with how aroused he’d become. His fangs were throbbing as though they had a pulse of their own. Sypha allowed him a moment of respite from her mouth, but she didn’t remove her hand, which squeezed his base lightly. The pressure of her hand made veins stand out along the length of his cock and it darkened in colour, swollen with blood. He opened his mouth and closed it again, feeling like he was losing it. One hand came up to rake through his own hair, his breath coming in hitched pants.

At this point Trevor leaned in closer and treated him to a gratuitous kiss, sucking at his mouth, his male scent and the prick of his beard a powerful juxtaposition to Sypha’s softness and female smells. The scent alone nearly pushed him over in Sypha’s hand but he managed to retain some measure of control as Trevor found the unmarred side of his throat and expertly applied his own bruising kisses there.

He heard Sypha gasp and looked up at her in momentary alarm. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips wet from sucking him, and now Trevor’s hand had worked between her legs from behind while he was attending to Adrian’s throat, and he teased her opening and was running his fingers along her folds. Sypha’s hand on his body relaxed and she straightened up on her knees over him, treating Adrian to an amazing view of her body, her breasts perky, her nipples and darkened areolas tight and jutting, her small waist and the lovely flare of her hips the picture of femininity. The dark auburn hair between her legs was short and neat, and now when he looked closer Adrian realized that she was incredibly aroused, the slit at her center slippery with her moisture. He saw two of Trevor’s large fingers exploring her from behind. He dipped them into her, coating them with her wetness which was clear and slippery. He then teased her externally, paying special attention to the little hidden nub of flesh at the top of the slit, touching it very lightly before dipping his fingers back into her center, pushing them inside her an inch, withdrawing, then letting them sink back into her heat. Adrian watched in amazement, momentarily awestruck by the scene. Her scent was stronger as she got more excited, and he saw her eyes fall shut when Trevor’s fingers pushed all the way inside.

“Oh, that’s good Trev,” she encouraged, rocking back on the two fingers, letting them slide in and out of her body and clearly loving the sensation. Her hands came up to her own breasts, palming them as she enjoyed being touched.

Adrian had thought he was close to coming before, but now with no contact on his cock and this incredible show before his eyes he throbbed in the open air. Trevor had released his throat to concentrate on pleasuring Sypha. Adrian took this opportunity to kiss the hunter, leaning up on his elbow and capturing his mouth greedily, sucking his lips to near bruising, his hips bucking helplessly, seeking friction. Trevor grinned against his mouth.

“We’re going to make you come so hard,” he promised in a low growl. The tone of his voice sent more shivers through Adrian’s body at the thought of actually coming from Trevor and Sypha touching him. Trevor broke their kiss off and glanced at Sypha, who was still working herself back onto his fingers. He withdrew them from her body and she made a tiny noise of protest, nearly a whimper. He caught her eye, her cheeks flushed and pink so the freckles clashed like they had the night before. Trevor brought his slick fingers to Adrian’s face at the same time that Sypha bent over him and laved his dick with her tongue with agonizing slowness. He was already jerking against her, almost wanting to grab her face and push it down onto his cock. His nose suddenly filled with the heady scent of her arousal, the glistening fingers pushed against his mouth, the slippery lubrication wetting his lips, under his nose and his chin. Trevor wiped the fingers there intentionally, leaving her sex smell on his face, then dipped them into Adrian’s mouth. The salty taste combined with the smell and the pheromones drove him crazy. The two large fingers were somehow obscene and sexual in his mouth, and it was all just too much. He felt like he was unraveling under them both. He panted breathlessly, unable to help himself, unable to stop his body from twitching and moving, his claws raking through his own hair again, his hips moving of their own accord.

Sypha’s mouth on his prick quickened, her hand gripped the base firmly and she swallowed it whole, plunging it into her throat, nearly gagging as she pushed her self down on it over and over, letting him strike the back of her throat when it was pushed deep and running her tongue along its length as she withdrew it.

“Ahh, mphhh!” he exclaimed around Trevor’s fingers, smelling Sypha’s body on his face and knowing for certain now that his eyes glowed inhuman, his fingers were definitely tipped in claws, and he even had a haze of red aura around him, such was his arousal. Trevor removed his hand and covered his mouth with a searing and kiss, forcefully biting his lips and pushing him hard into the pillow. Trevor’s warm palm pressed on his chest and the other snaked into his hair and gripped it tight at the back of his head, yanking his head backwards and forcing his mouth open so he could violate it more deeply. The force Trevor used was the last straw, the roughness of it woke a perverted thing inside of Adrian that he hadn’t known was there. His mind was suddenly filled with images of being pushed or coerced into compromising sexual positions at Trevor and Sypha’s hands, of laying tangled with them atop him, using him, making his body react to their touches.

His belly tensed, coiled with heat and he knew he was past the point of no return. He tried to say something to Sypha, warn her that he was going to come but Trevor would not allow him to use his mouth for anything other than receiving his forceful kisses. Sypha seemed to recognize the signs anyway, but rather than pulling back she sank her mouth all the way down onto his cock. Her throat worked around it and Adrian tried not to hurt her, tried not to push himself deeper into the delicious heat as orgasm tore through his body. He felt his balls tighten, his muscles tensing and then it was happening, he was exploding into her mouth, his fingers were clawing at the bedding, his toes were curling, back arching in pleasure, and Trevor was assaulting his mouth and neck with still more kisses and bites.

He held that tensed position of completion for a stretched out moment, his mouth open in a pleasured exclamation, eyes momentarily sightless, and then it passed and he came back to himself, to his tingling body, the scents, the heat, and both Trevor and Sypha looking at him with smoldering expressions of affection. Adrian tried to catch his breath, aware that the aura of redness and the glow of his eyes was subsiding as his body regained normal function and the intensity of his pleasure passed. Sypha withdrew her mouth, having swallowed his seed without complaint. The open air felt cool on him, and he was hypersensitive, nearly jumping when she gave his cock a little lick and a small kiss. He softened slowly, but he knew that the arousal was not far beneath the surface and that it would not take much time for him to be ready once more, especially with these two around. Trevor stroked a hand gently through his hair and leaned in for a much sweeter kiss, the intensity from a moment earlier passing with his completion.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he assured sweetly, brushing a tendril of blonde from his face.

Adrian needed a moment to gather himself, he was still reeling from the pleasure. He felt all limp and rubbery now, intensely relaxed and just so _good_. He shifted slightly as if to reassure himself that his limbs were still there and still functioning. Sypha came to lay on one side of him, and Trevor relaxed against his other side. He was acutely aware of Trevor’s dick digging into his hip, and he realized that he should probably return the favour, help his two partners feel as good as he did. He just needed a minute for the world to resume spinning on the correct axis before he tried to move.

“That was...” he searched for a word that would describe it accurately, “it was amazing,” he said finally, unable to come up with anything better at the moment.

Sypha grinned and ran her hand appreciatively along his middle, from stomach to chest. She leaned in for a kiss. “Your face smells like pussy,” she commented, but still kissed him, all soft lips and tongue. He let her do as she pleased, eyes slipping shut at her softness and how wonderful her touches were.

“I have to pee,” Adrian finally said after laying there for another minute just absorbing the feeling of being between them.

Trevor reluctantly rolled over and sat up, putting his feet on the floor and letting Adrian up. The dhampir didn’t miss his slight pout or the fact that he was still rock-hard and this time it wasn’t subsiding. He would return the favour, but first he really had to go!

Adrian rose and threw on his clothes, raking his fingers through his hair to try and coax it back to normalcy and wiping his face, trying to remove the sex smell before going outside. He glanced back and Sypha was getting up as well, throwing on her robe to follow Adrian. Trevor sighed reluctantly and also rose, his cock sticking straight out proudly. He winced, adjusting his testicles. He hadn’t said anything, but Adrian remembered him complaining about blue balls the night before, and obviously nothing had happened to relieve that buildup, so it was only getting worse. Poor guy. Adrian was no stranger to that feeling himself. It sucked.

When the three of them were half decent Adrian opened the door and was met with a wall of rain. Visibility was so bad he could barely see the stables, which were only a few hundred paces from the inn. Well. Perhaps their travel plans were going to be postponed for the day. The horses wouldn’t be able to pull the wagon in this mess, its wheels would sink into the mud and Adrian was willing to bet he’d get stuck lifting it free for lack of other options. Not to mention they’d all be soaked and freezing in minutes. He wouldn’t suffer more than discomfort, but his human companions could very well die of such things if conditions became bad enough. No, it looked like they were going to be spending a little longer right where they were.

They darted from the room and into the downpour to get all their business sorted so they could then get back inside and dry off. Adrian took care of his needs, as did Trevor and Sypha, and they all convened in the tavern for some breakfast. The tavern was below the inn, it was all the same structure. They first spoke with the tavern keeper to pay for the room for another night and then sat down to breakfast. They were at a booth with high backed benches beside a large window with glass panes. The gray of the day did not look like it would be subsiding anytime soon, but they could keep an eye on the weather from this position. A large stone hearth with a cozy fire was at the back wall of the tavern, and a few other patrons were seated around the room, some talking to one another, some sipping cups of ale or tea depending on their preference.

The delicious scent of fresh bread was a balm to Adrian’s senses and the food was most welcome. It had been ages since they had a hot breakfast that consisted of more than porridge or a stew made of hard tack and the remnants whatever fish or game he had managed to scare up. The real treat was the egg, cooked on cast iron and served on the warm bread with butter and some kind of sausage that was divinely fatty and salty. All three of them ate like they were starving, and the meal disappeared quickly.

The barmaid from the night before was working behind the counter, her eyes drifting over to Adrian every few minutes, then darting shyly back to her work when he noticed her watching him. Trevor elbowed him conspiratorially.

“Looks like you have an admirer,” he whispered loudly enough that anyone could hear.

“Trevor shut up,” Sypha scolded with a smile, inching closer to Adrian.

“Oh you two are no fun,” he scoffed and waved the girl over. She approached, her cheeks warming almost imperceptibly.

“Can I get you something?” she asked, avoiding looking at Adrian. He could hear her heart quickening when she got close and he was surprised that he had such an effect on someone he’d barely ever spoken to. Did he stick out that much?

“Three ales, and one whiskey,” Trevor answered, completely disregarding the time of day and the fact that they had very little in the way of coin. Trust the alcoholic to skew priorities.

Before they could protest the girl scurried off, evidently unwilling to remain standing at the table longer than she needed to.

“Ale at this hour?” Sypha gave Trevor a little frown. “Do we even have enough silver for that? We have to buy provisions for the road, and we hadn’t expected to stay another night.”

Trevor waved her concerns aside with a hand. “Don’t worry, I got a good price for that last monster’s teeth a few towns back. We are fine. Besides, you can’t expect me to sit here all fucking day with nothing to do and not have a drink. And you might as well join me, its not like you’ve got someplace to be.”

Sypha opened her mouth to argue and Adrian cut her off, seeing Trevor’s logic. “He’s actually right. As much as I hate to say it, we have some time to kill.”

Trevor grinned in triumph. “Hah, see? Alucard gets it. Two against one. Lets get fucked up.”

“Actually I didn’t mean-”

Trevor dismissed his comment rudely as the barmaid returned with their mugs and set them down in the middle of the table. She put the whiskey in front of Trevor, giving him a disdainful look which he evidently took as a compliment if his answering grin were any indication.

“Thank you,” Adrian said to her and she veritably fled from the table with a small murmur that he didn’t catch. He did, however, see how her cheeks burned when he spoke to her.

“Man Alucard, she’s really got the hots for you,” Trevor teased, kicking him lightly under the table. “Guess we aren’t the only ones who think you’re pretty.”

Sypha looked like she was going to tell him to shut up again but she thought better of it and sipped at her mug. The beer left a foamy mustache on her upper lip. Adrian looked into his mug for a moment, considering the bubbles as they rose and broke on the surface.

“I think,” he began slowly, bringing their attention onto him with his change in tone, “I would prefer if you used my real name,” he finished in a soft voice, the words feeling strange on his tongue. He hadn’t thought about it before he said it, but when Trevor spoke his moniker he realized that he wanted them to know he didn’t think of himself that way. He wanted them to know _him_ , Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, because it felt good to be close to them and this small personal detail was something he had never been comfortable sharing with anyone since his mother had been killed. Now he would share it with them. “Call me Adrian. That’s my name. When its just us, you can call me that.”

“Adrian,” Sypha said experimentally, testing it out. He looked at her sitting beside him, secretly enjoying hearing his own name spoken aloud for the first time in a long while. She pronounced it beautifully, rolling the ‘r’ slightly on her tongue. When their eyes met he felt like she was somehow seeing more of him, seeing more deeply into him. He inched his hand over top of hers on the table, squeezing it lightly before releasing it and picking up his mug. The ale was cool and refreshing, even if he hated the taste of alcohol. His body recognized it as poison, the scent and taste extremely unpleasant, but the effect not unwelcome. Adrian was most certainly capable of becoming intoxicated as easily as any human. Vampires in general were not immune to the effects of alcohol, its only that their bodies filtered out such toxins very efficiently, so the feeling of being drunk was difficult to achieve or maintain. If he drank enough, however, Adrian would become just as drunk as anyone.

“You get a wrinkle on your nose when you drink that, like you hate it,” Trevor observed, swirling the whiskey around in the small glass. It was rare to actually drink from a glass vessel, but spirits were typically served in them. Trevor seemed to appreciate this, for he actually refrained from tossing it back straight away, and was instead nursing it, apparently partaking of the smell for a moment before taking a small sip and letting it coat his lips and mouth. He seemed to enjoy both the smell and the taste; Adrian didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared briefly when he lifted the glass to his lips, inhaling as if the odour wasn’t awful.

“Doesn’t everyone hate it?” he asked in response.

“I don’t,” Trevor answered with a guiltless grin as he took a long pull of the ale, nearly draining the cup. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Adrian watched it, trying to understand how he could be so attracted to a person with such dreadful manners. Maybe that was part of the allure.

Trevor slammed the cup back on the table and belched, and Adrian reconsidered his previous thought. Maybe he just had terrible taste after all. He shared a look with Sypha that said she was thinking much the same thing.

Outside of their window the wind shifted, so the rain was now tapping on the glass. The sound gave Adrian the sense that the warm tavern was a safe little cave, far away from the outside world.

“Adrian,” Trevor said, pulling him from his thoughts. He liked how it sounded when the hunter said it too. “What was it like growing up in the castle, living with,” he paused, lowering his voice and leaning in closer, “living with _him_?”

Adrian paused for a long moment, studying Trevor, then peering at Sypha, who was paying close attention now. Was he really going to talk about that stuff? Why did they want to know? What could he even say? It wasn’t as though he had something to compare it to, or that he thought back on it as some terrible time. It was just his life. While he was well aware that his father was both unimaginably cruel and had been responsible for innumerable atrocities over his impossibly long life, Adrian had personally borne witness to only a little of it. His mother had told him more, as had some of the other vampires, but Adrian hadn't seen the worst side of his father until after Lisa was killed. Then it had all clicked into place, how this man who had raised him, taught him so much, even loved him could be reconciled with the terrible monster known as Dracula.

Adrian laced his long white fingers around his mug with a sigh, looking down into it. He tipped it to his lips and swallowed the whole thing down as if he’d taken lessons from Trevor. Setting the empty vessel on the table he met Trevor’s eyes.

“I’m going to need one of those,” he said softly, pointing at the little glass of whiskey.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	4. Part Four

**Part Four**

The shy barmaid brought Adrian his whiskey and brought he and Trevor each another ale, which was deemed a necessary expense if he was going to talk about his past and his family. He let the little glass of amber liquid sit on the table in front of him while he contemplated what to say, how to begin. First off, this was a conversation that should be private, but they didn’t want to be cooped up in the small upstairs room all day, so they settled for huddling in close around the table and keeping their voices low.

Adrian took a breath, trying to think of where to start. He didn’t want to take this anywhere that was going to bring up really painful memories, but unfortunately that went hand in hand with this topic. He would have to tell them about his mother. He would have to relive some of the memories he tried never to think about because they were painful. He stared into the whiskey, feeling Sypha and Trevor’s eyes on him. If he was to share this with anyone, it would be them. He reminded himself that they were his friends, that he trusted them. He could talk to them about these personal things and they would accept the truth. With another deep breath he began to speak.

“You wanted to know what it was like living with him… mostly I think it was normal, especially when I was younger. You must understand that being with her – my mother – made him extraordinarily happy. He loved her completely, thoroughly, even honestly, at least as much as he was capable of. I have no doubt that he kept a great deal from her, and from me. I know he did. But she was happy, and so he seemed to be as well. My mother was the key to unlocking whatever humanity still remains inside him. With her he was gentle, careful. He was patient. At times he was willing to do things a different way, break his preconceived notions about humans, the world, and his role in it. Once he agreed to live as a human, to try it her way. I know that he only did this because he hoped it would make her happy. In the end the reason he was not there to protect her from being killed was because he was trying to live this way, to travel as a human did, without supernatural means. Before that, in the earlier years when I was very young he still refused to try it. He did not submit easily to her requests, love or not. He did not trust humans, not even her. Many times he accused her of dishonesty, and would stop at nothing to uncover some truth that he thought was being hidden from him.” Adrian paused here, remembering some of those times, some of the worst ones. He took up the small glass of spirit and drank half of it, wincing at the terrible taste and the way it burned his throat and made him shudder slightly. As the warmth spread in his belly he urged himself to continue speaking.

“One time I rose for the evening – we rested in the day, as you would expect – and could not find her. I looked in the gardens, in the kitchens, in the libraries, in her surgery, anywhere that I could think of, but she was gone. The castle is a strange thing, it is linked intrinsically to him, he commands every part of it as if it were an extension of his body. If he did not want you to go somewhere, finding that place became an impossibility. If he wanted to hide something or someone it simply could not be found. Finally I asked Father if he knew where she was and I could see his face darken. With it the castle darkened, as was customary. He may be a master at strategy, and deceit, but he was not good at hiding his personal feelings from his family. He told me she was being punished. I asked him why and he became enraged, sent me flying through several walls and forbid me to ask any more questions on the matter. That type of reaction was typical of him. I figured out when I was older that his explosive rage was more common when he felt guilty, when he was ashamed or hurt. He had done something to her, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t stop himself when he got it in his mind that someone had betrayed him or lied to him in some way. I knew that it would be fruitless to try searching for her. I knew if I asked him again the reaction would be the same. I never underestimated his ability to hold onto anger, often it consumed him for long periods. At these times the castle became more dangerous, more virulent. These were the times when people in the surrounding areas started dying, where monsters would come from the castle in greater numbers and destroy villages, steal children away in the night, kill livestock. A month passed and she did not reappear. I began to worry that he had killed her. I didn’t think he would, I knew that the idea of her death terrified him. He was adamant that she allow him to turn her into a vampire, and she had always refused. She offered herself to him completely in every other way, but she did not want that. He only accepted it because he would lose her love if he didn’t. I think he probably tried to force her on more than one occasion, but she met his will equally at every turn. Somehow he could not overpower her strength of will no matter how he raged, intimidated, killed. She would not do it. Maybe that is what she’d done to be punished on that occasion, I will never know. But one day she was there again when I woke for the evening. She had returned to our quarters, to the area of the castle that we generally lived in day to day. She was skinny, bruised in many places, but her fire was untamed. She stood proudly when he came into the room, and when she looked at him I couldn’t understand her eyes. I thought she would be afraid of him, but she wasn’t. I thought she’d be angry, and she was, but it wasn’t as deep as you would expect. I thought she might pity him for being unable to control his monstrosity, but she certainly didn’t. I still don’t understand how she could endure living with him in the castle for so long without becoming terrified, nervous or sad, but she never did. She was truly his equal with respect to their personalities. She had his heart, and make no mistake he most certainly has one, a metaphorical heart, I mean.

“That story of her punishment was one side of the coin. On the other he was hopelessly bound to her, he needed her. He absolutely loved her and always will. He tried hard to be ‘good’ to please her. He often went about it in the wrong way, but she always forgave him. He would change the course of his war or even stop it altogether at times because she asked him to. There is a part of him that always wants to have it both ways, so his answer would be to try and hide his actions, hide the truth. Sometimes he would stop one thing, but secretly begin another in order to both honour his word and satisfy whatever greedy force it is that drives him. She accepted him with all of his faults.”

Adrian trailed off, caught in those memories of the past which were vivid in his mind. He could still see his mother’s face so clearly, the way she looked at his father with a stark openness, the way she never allowed herself to feel responsible for his mistrust or his jealousy, no matter what he said or did. She had accepted that he was both man and monster from the beginning. She knew exactly what he was capable of and she decided that it was worth it because she loved him. It amazed him that such depth was even possible. He knew it was rare. In several millennia there had not been another woman capable of meeting him eye to eye. There probably wouldn’t be again.

A hand smoothed over his back, pulling Adrian from his memories. He hadn’t realized he’d been caught up in them; he blinked at Sypha, realizing that they were waiting for him to continue. He frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, taking a sip of the ale. “It sounds a bit… awful when I say it out loud, but it didn’t seem that way at the time. I didn’t worry about these things much, they just seemed normal. Just as it was normal to me that he always pushed me, always tested me. He wanted me to learn everything, and Mother did as well. Education and knowledge were imperative to them both. She taught me everything she knew about the human body, about medicine, human culture, traditions, customs, about her own life, and she even helped me to learn about myself, to learn how to fit in to human society, learn the physical differences and similarities I shared with them. She always told me that one day we would spend some time living outside of the castle. I didn’t want to, it seemed awful and I didn’t want to be a dirty peasant, but she explained that she needed to open a surgery so she could help people and heal them and I knew that was very important to her. She wanted me to be exposed to that side of the world. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. She wanted me to be part of humanity so that I would respect it and protect it from him after she was gone. She didn’t want me to be lonely.”

Adrian took a deep drink. Trevor and Sypha were rapt, clearly waiting for him to go on. They had not interrupted or offered any kind of comments, they were just absorbing everything he said like it was the most fascinating thing they’d ever heard.

“Father was a very good teacher. Some of my first memories are of him teaching me how to read and write, how to use my abilities, how to fight, to kill. He was endlessly patient. Where his temper was virulent in other matters, in these things he was the perfect opposite. He would go over something as many times as necessary to ensure I understood, then he would test me later. He would challenge me, reward my successes generously and look on my failures as new opportunities to learn. As a child, then a young man, the repetition of certain tasks became frustrating, but he taught me that frustration was a dangerous weakness which would work against me. He demonstrated this very clearly in hand to hand combat, where he would sometimes make me repeat the same things so many times I screamed at him that I wanted to stop, and then he would make me do it again until I accepted it and focused and did it correctly. Sword fighting was like that. It was very boring, I was not interested in it because I was able to do so many other things, I simply didn’t see the point. Why attack an enemy with a sword when I could use my abilities to crush them in seconds? Why bother learning something so unnecessary? No human could match me and I was fast discovering that I had a distinct advantage over the other vampires because I was much faster than them, and in most cases stronger. Not all of them shared my transformative abilities, though some of them had their own special talents which I did not share. It had been months that he was forcing this training on me and I finally threw down the sword and refused to continue with it. His response was to put me in a position where I had no choice but to use the sword. He bled me until I was very much weakened, then through magic sealed my abilities. I could not take another form, could not use my significant speed or strength. He pit me against a number of creatures of his creation, night creatures like the ones we fight now. They were fast. In my weakened state, they were as strong as I was, and he threw me against them with only the sword to protect myself. I had to rely on it to fight them because it was all I had. His lesson was thorough. After barely keeping them from eating me I discovered how useful the blade was, how powerful of a weapon it could be if I used it correctly. I destroyed them all and was very proud of myself. He was proud of me too.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Trevor interrupted, holding his hands up to stop Adrian from continuing, “What do you mean ‘take another form’? Are you telling me you can fucking _shapeshift_?”

Adrian gave the hunter a flat look. “ _That’s_ the thing you find most interesting? I’m telling you the intimate, personal details of my family and my life and you want to know if I can turn into a bat?”

Trevor gave him a look like he was an idiot for even asking. “Well, yeah. It sounds fucking cool. And I always thought that only Dracula or full vampires could do that shit.”

“You’re hopeless,” Adrian muttered and tossed back the rest of his whiskey.

“But… I mean… can you?” There was a decidedly childlike gleam in the last Belmont’s eye.

“Trevor, can’t you see this is not the time for those questions? Don’t you have any tact?” Sypha scolded, finally reaching the end of her first mug.

Trevor grinned. “First of all, no I don’t have tact. Fucking obviously. Second of all, can you?”

Adrian rolled his eyes and fixed Sypha with a falsely serious look. “How about we let him sleep in the stable tonight with the horses since he likes animals so much. He took up most of the bed last night anyhow.”

Sypha laughed at the suggestion. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“Oh come on guys,” Trevor whined.

Adrian smirked, enjoying this break from his memories. He appreciated the levity. It was rather draining to be dredging up all these things from the past; it was taking him from some of his saddest, most painful memories to some of the happiest and back again. He was suddenly glad he’d decided to be so honest with Sypha and Trevor. He wanted them to know these things about his life. He wanted them to understand him.

The bar girl came by, seeing that all of their mugs were empty. She cleared them away and Sypha asked her if she’d please bring another round. She nodded, eyes flicking to Adrian then back to the mugs in her hand. Outside the rain continued to drive against the glass. By now the whole town was basically a giant mud puddle. It was very fortunate that they had arrived here yesterday instead of today or things would have been far more unpleasant. When she set down the new mugs the trio resumed their position leaning in close over the table so Adrian could continue.

“Father taught me a lot more than just how to use a blade, but eventually I had learned most of the physical techniques, and all the while he’d been teaching me about history, war, geography, and many other things. I mentioned he taught me how to kill… this was relevant considering I was expected to both dispatch my enemies and also take humans to feed on, though I admit I begged my mother to persuade him not to force that matter. I never liked it, I never wanted to hurt anyone. It was a great embarrassment to him which I was not to speak of. Nobody was to know of it, lest they discover my shameful weakness. As time passed I became more opposed to drinking from humans, even if I did not harm or kill them. I began to subsist on animal blood. He was furious. It drove as rift between us. He pushed me so hard, he confrontationally pit himself against me on more than one occasion and each time easily overpowered me and bled me until I was in terrible pain and unable to defend myself, but I knew he wouldn’t kill me and I knew he could not force me to do what he wanted. I began to make more of my own decisions, to recognize his shortcomings, his selfishness. Everything he did was to serve his own best interests in some way, even the way he had raised me. He wanted me to be his ally, his subservient second, his insurance policy. Why a creature who has lived over three thousand years unchecked needed such a thing is beyond me, but that is part of his convoluted perception that someone will try to take what he has, take his castle or his power. I began to oppose him, to argue with him, to refuse to obey his orders. We fought terribly, at the peril of the other castle inhabitants and the castle itself. Many ancient treasures and works of art were destroyed when we came to blows. The tensions between us grew unbearable, and finally Mother decided that she would return to living among the humans. She had wanted to create a sort of hospital or surgery anyhow, and this was the thing which motivated her to leave the castle. He blamed me for her leaving. He sent me away from it as well, told me to go and live in the human world so I could learn that I would never belong with them. I know he wanted me to protect her as well, but mostly he just wanted to be rid of me. When we left it was a relief. It was the first time in many years that things were just quiet and peaceful. He still came to her, visited her regularly, but there was a tension between them as well, because she was angry for how he’d treated me. I think that is why he eventually agreed to go and live in the human world and behave as a man for a time. It was all because of me. Because she was mad at him and he intended to do penance, and to prove to her that he was not incapable of compromise, and of understanding her feelings.

“She was overjoyed at his efforts. Her medical practice was becoming quite popular, so she did not want to leave Targoviste, but she was so happy that he was trying to understand the world through human perspective. They wrote letters regularly – even though I know it frustrated him to adhere to such simple human behaviours – he was obviously trying very hard to make her happy. She urged me to go out on my own as well, to see the world and to live on my own as a man, so I did for few weeks, until I heard of what had been happening in Targoviste. By the time I came back she was bound to a post on a pyre and had been convicted of witchcraft. There was nothing I could do, it was too late. She burned that day, in front of the whole town of people she had worked so hard to heal and protect. And they cheered. They cheered while she screamed. They thought she was screaming in pain, but she was screaming for him, to beg him not to hurt them. She told me not to blame them, she pleaded with me to forgive them and not to let Father destroy them. I warred with myself over it, because for the first time I understood why he hated them so much, but in time I came to see her point of view as well, and I knew I had to honour her dying request. I had to stop Father.”

Adrian finished and felt decidedly deflated, the story taking an emotional toll he had expected but could not be prepared for. He felt drained, thin. Hewas overwhelmingly sad because his mother had died horribly and he had been only minutes too late to save her. He sniffled and realized that he was crying. His cheeks were wet from his tears. Sypha was at his side, a soothing hand slipping into his lap to smooth over his thigh in comfort. Across the table Trevor’s face was unreadable, he had a hard look that was hiding his thoughts quite successfully. It appeared as though he were still thinking over the story, but Adrian suspected he was uncomfortable with the general level of emotion at the table.

He blinked hard, trying to stave off the tears. He hadn’t expected his own reaction, since he had never talked about any of this to another soul. Truthfully he didn’t even allow _himself_ to think about it in so much detail, because it was so painful. He took another draw from the ale cup – his third – which was now almost finished. His cheeks were feeling hot and he thought he might be somewhat drunk.

“There is only a bit left of the story after that, even though its not about living with Father. It fills in the time between Mother’s death and when I met both of you.” Adrian finished off the cup, falling back into his memories so he could simply get everything out on the table. Telling them these things was starting to feel good – it was easing a pressure he had not been aware of until it was lifted.

“I confronted him about his intentions. He was beyond angry, he was brokenhearted, insane with pain and rage. He was adamant that they all had to die. All humans on the earth. Such a thing makes no sense, even from the point of view of the evillest of vampires, because they are the food source. To destroy all human life wold be to deny themselves life as well, to deny sustenance and strength. Societal order. Father told me of his intentions and I tried to reason with him. I agreed that he should have revenge, but on the man who was responsible, not on everyone. I told him he should kill the bishop. I even went so far as to suggest that he do whatever he liked to him, torture him, terrify him – better this single evil man suffer than the whole of humanity – but he would not consider it. He was decided. We fought then, badly. I tried with everything I had to stop him. I could not. I was simply not able to best him. He wounded me mortally,” Adrian’s hand went unconsciously to his chest, where the massive scar still deformed his flesh just beneath the cover of his clothing.

“He could have killed me, but he didn’t. After he was gone I knew that he would leave the humans alone for one year, and I needed time to heal. I could not regenerate easily from such an injury, especially without human blood. I needed time to heal from the wound, and I needed help if I were to be successful in my next confrontation with Father. I constructed a place to rest beneath Gresit, below the catacombs. I needed a way to find the most worthy people to help me defeat Father, so I invented the story about the sleeping soldier, spread word that this entity could be awakened in times of need to defend humanity against Dracula’s attacks. I then safeguarded the place with monsters and traps, to ensure that only the strongest could navigate it successfully. I went to sleep beneath Gresit to regain my strength and await a worthy ally in my fight against Father. The rest of the story I think you know already.”

Silence, save the rain on the glass, settled over the trio, Adrian staring into his empty cup. He felt fuzzy, his eyes were glassy even though he was no longer crying. It felt like a long time had passed, but he couldn’t tell the time, because the clouds had been so thick all day.

“Thank you for telling us so much about your life Adrian,” Sypha offered softly after the silence became too loud. “I know these memories are painful, and sad. Thank you for trusting us to know these things about you.” She pushed a bit of hair back from his face, leaning in to kiss his cheek – just the tiniest soft press of her lips. “I feel like I understand you better now. And maybe I even understand _him_ a little better,” she intoned, meaning his father, of course. Adrian frowned, shaking his head.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking that understanding anything about him makes him less dangerous. He will kill you without lifting a finger. Even together we stand only the barest chance of stopping him. By this time next year all of you will probably be dead. We are on a fool’s errand.”

Sypha’s face contorted into something between a scowl and a pout. “Great to see you have so much confidence in us. I know it seems impossible, but we are going to do it. We are going to save everyone.”

Trevor jumped in, ever the optimist. “No he’s right, Dracula is probably going to turn us inside out and wear us as shoes, but we stand a fuck of a better chance together than any of us does alone. And if what you said is true Adrian, then he won’t kill you, at least. You’ll get to live. If we fail, then you can try again.”

“Oh goody,” Adrian answered flatly, eyeing Sypha’s unfinished beer. It seemed like alcohol was the best answer at the moment. He was fairly certain he was already drunk but it was numbing his feelings. It was pleasant. He looked over to the bar where the barmaid had been watching their table for most of the time they’d been sitting. He pointed at the empty whiskey glass and she nodded, pouring another and bringing it over. He snatched it up as soon as she set it down and tossed it back. It didn’t even taste bad anymore, although it was getting harder to think clearly. She turned to go back to the bar and he reached out and caught her wrist in his fingers. She tried to pull her arm free but he held her fast. “Bring the bottle,” he ordered, leaving no room for disagreement. When he loosened his hold she yanked her arm away and cradled it close to her body. She had been so enamoured with him until this moment, but now she seemed a little afraid. She rubbed her wrist as though he had used too much force, looking at him warily.

When the girl had scampered away to fetch the bottle Trevor tried to catch Adrian’s eyes, his expression dark. “I know this is going to sound a little absurd coming from me, but I think you’ve had enough to drink. Why don’t we get you something else, maybe some water?”

“Fuck off Belmont, don’t tell me what to do. I’m fine.”

“Adrian! What’s gotten into you? That was mean,” Sypha chided with a glower. Trevor leaned in close, a serious look on his face.

“You just grabbed that girl’s wrist so hard she’s going to have a bruise. You scared her. Apologize and we’ll take the bottle with us.”

That cut through the haze easily enough and Adrian felt guilt building in him. He watched the girl return, the way she avoided his reach and set the bottle down quickly. He couldn’t tell if she was injured but he didn’t think Trevor would make it up. “Sorry,” he said to her quietly, feeling ashamed. He pulled some coins out and laid them on the table, making sure he covered everything they had consumed and waited for Sypha to slide out of the booth first so he could get up.

The world tilted when he got to his feet and he had to catch himself on the table with an open palm. Trevor got up beside him and steadied him discreetly, leaning in to his ear. “Its ok, lets just get out of here and we’ll go somewhere more private, maybe back to the room. I got you, come on.” Trevor’s hand was on the small of his back, gently guiding him towards the door. He wanted to protest, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. He was just so… so… he didn’t know. Talking about all those things was just too much. He wanted hit something. He wanted to scream and make a scene. He wanted to cry. He gripped the neck of the little brown bottle firmly in his hand and let Trevor guide him out of the tavern, Sypha a few paces ahead of them. It was still raining, though not as heavily. Now it was more of a drizzle, although everything was soaked and even beneath the overhang which wrapped around the building, their feet were waterlogging.

Once they were clear of the tavern entrance Adrian pushed Trevor off of him, not wanting to be lead around like a puppy. His tall black boots squelched in the mud with each step he took. The bottom edge of his long trench was getting mud all over it from the splashing. The gold coloured silk which lined it was also becoming dirty. He scowled at this, hating the filth on his clothes. He stalked off in a random direction, letting his feet carry him blindly into the drizzle. He took another pull off the whiskey bottle. Now when he swallowed the spirit it was like warm fire, almost like blood. It coated his insides deliciously and left a warmth in his belly which he rarely felt. It was a lovely juxtaposition to the coolness of the rain which was now soaking into his hair and making it stick to his face. He had to get away from here, away from them. He needed respite from their company to process this unexpected surge of emotions. He stumbled, toe hooking a root he hadn’t noticed. Trevor tried to steady him and he whirled, shoving the hunter away from him.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, glaring. He knew he was behaving unreasonably. He knew he should stop being like this, like a child. It wasn’t fair to them, they were his friends. He had _wanted_ to tell them those things, wanted them to know him better. He had volunteered far more information than they had asked for. They were not his enemy.

“Adrian, stop it,” Trevor answered in a steady tone, but kept his hands off for the moment. Sypha was beside him, her face worried.

“Please Adrian, we know those memories were painful to talk about,” she stepped forwards, her sandals completely soaked and sinking into the mud, making it hard for her to lift them free. “You have to believe that we can do this, that we can stop him. You can’t give up hope.” She held his eyes and put a hand on his forearm gingerly, keeping his gaze.

She was so quick to believe that they weren’t fighting an impossible enemy. She just didn’t know, even after his story, after everything she had seen, lived through, the night creatures coming in droves and wreaking death and carnage in their wake, the castle moving instantly from place to place like it was nothing, the wound that his father had given him, still so deep a scar after so much time had passed to heal it. She just could not understand the hopelessness of their journey. She was innocent, even after everything. She thought they could win. She thought they could beat him. Two little humans and a dhampir fighting Dracula. It was idiotic. It was preposterous. Pure lunacy.

He began to laugh, quietly at first, then louder, the sound twisted and terrible in his throat, the laughter coming in gasps that he didn’t seem able to stop. He laughed at her, laughed until he couldn’t breathe, until he was crying, until the ugly sound disgusted him and turned into sobs and he threw the bottle onto the ground, smashing it in an explosion of shards, the sound swallowed up by the rain and by the deafening silence from his friends.

Finally after an immeasurable length of time he was able to stop the horrible sobbing and he glared at Sypha, and Trevor behind her. “Go back to the inn,” he ordered them, all the fight drained from his voice. “I need to be alone.”

Sypha’s face contorted in sadness. He knew she was fighting the urge to go to him, to comfort him. He couldn’t take it. Her tenderness was especially unbearable at the moment. For all her fearless bravery and magical skill she was still undamaged by the many horrors of the world, even after witnessing so many firsthand. She still had hope. It terrified him.

“C’mon Syph, I’ll take you back to the room,” Trevor put an arm around her shoulders and guided her away. Adrian stared after them, feeling like there was a hole in his heart. He had pushed away the only people that mattered to him. Maybe he was more like his father than he had realized.

As they were walking away he heard Trevor talking to Sypha. He was sure that the conversation was intended for his ears as well. “You have to give him time. He’ll come back when he’s ready,” he looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with Adrian, “We’ll be there.” He turned back Sypha, planting a kiss on her temple. “Lets go get warmed up.”

Adrian stood in the cold rain and watched them go, somehow feeling a tiny bit better, knowing that Trevor understood his need for solitude. When they were out of sight he transformed into his wolf form and began to run, as hard and as fast as he could. He ran for hours, until he was finally exhausted, panting, hungry, and barely able to take another step. Only then did he return to the small village, well after nightfall. The rain had finally stopped. It was quiet and dark, not a single creature stirring in the surrounding forest save for himself and the crickets. His large white paws were covered in mud, his fur nearly soaked through. He resumed his humanoid form and entered the village, breathing in the humid scent of earth and horses. All he wanted to do was return to their sides. After all the time he took to think, to consider, all he wanted was to apologize and be near them again.

He stepped silently from the trees, locating the tavern building. There were still dim lights coming from within, the glow of the fire in the hearth and the lanterns swinging from the rafters. He made his way around the building to the back stairs, which were used to access their room. He could smell them, and as he drew nearer, hear their heartbeats. He was at once relieved, satiated by their presence. Somehow, despite the relatively short time they had been traveling together, returning to Trevor and Sypha was beginning to feel like coming home.

<<< ~o~O~o~ >>>


	5. Part Five

**Part Five**

Adrian stood outside of the door to the room, sudden apprehension filling him as he considered how he would apologize for his behaviour. He closed his eyes and listened for Trevor and Sypha’s movements, trying to work up the courage to face the music. A dim glow filtered through the window. The skin was pulled closed, but they were awake. There had been a part of him that had hoped they would be sleeping, but evidently he was out of luck.

He reached for the latch, his hand seemingly frozen in place an inch from it. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should give them a little more time, or rather, give himself a little more time. Now that his stirred up feelings had settled and he had run until he was thoroughly exhausted he felt like he wanted to come back here, but maybe it would be best to wait a little longer, just one night. Give them some time together, time to talk about whatever they wanted, time to think about all the things he’d told them. Time to reconsider inviting him to join in their… relationship? Is that even what they had done? Did they want that, or were they just sharing their bed with him for a little while? Sypha had said before that they initially wanted to invite him to join them because he seemed lonely. Now they had a better understanding of him, but it didn’t mean that they wanted him to stay with them forever. Forever had a very different meaning to Adrian than it did to them. Besides, they fit so well together, they didn’t need him. It was probably more of a passing pleasure. A novelty.

He had used that word before when he and Trevor were talking about his vampire features. A novelty, something fun and interesting for its own sake, something new to try. Trevor had chided him for thinking that was his motivation. He had been insulted. How unfair it was of him to make so many assumptions of these two who had proven over and over to be nothing but open and honest with him.

His hand wavered over the latch but before he could decide what to do the door opened and Trevor filled the doorway, ducking to avoid smacking his head on the low frame as he passed through and stepped out to meet Adrian face to face. He pulled the door shut behind him quietly.

“I sensed a vampire out here. I knew it was you. Syph’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her up. She was pretty upset earlier, you freaked her out.”

Adrian looked at his boots, feeling appropriately guilty. “I’m sorry for my behaviour. It was disgraceful.”

Trevor snorted and closed the distance between them, winding an arm around Adrian’s waist. He looked up in surprise, feeling the hunter’s heat through his wet clothes. He was still thoroughly soaked and probably felt ice cold. While his clothing was uncomfortable, it was not a danger for him to be freezing. Trevor had evidently found something dry to wear, and at the moment he had his thick fur cloak over his free arm, Adrian’s waist in his other. He was only an inch, maybe two shorter than Adrian was, but they were close enough in height that they could meet eye to eye. Trevor’s ice gaze was a sharp contrast to his heat. He stared hard for a second then blinked his eyes shut and rested their foreheads together, pulling Adrian tightly against him and leaving no room for protest. He didn’t say anything yet, but he didn’t need to. Adrian felt a lot of the tension and apprehension draining away through this simple embrace. Trevor was telling him it was ok, there was no major damage done and he was happy for Adrian to come back to them. It felt like a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. For a seemingly boorish and lackadaisical person, Trevor was surprisingly astute.

Finally Trevor released the dhampir and swung his cloak over his broad shoulders, shivering visibly and tugging it close around him. “You feel like fucking ice,” he commented, rubbing his arms. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

Adrian shook his head. “Not really, though the wetness is uncomfortable. It would be nice to get changed into something dry. I have some extra things in my pack. I would very much like to switch into them. Perhaps I could sneak into the room quietly and get them? Then we could talk, if you would like to.”

Trevor shrugged. Evidently he wasn’t about to admit out loud that he wanted to discuss anything, but he wasn’t refusing. Adrian held up a finger to indicate that he would only be a second. He moved as quickly and as silently as he could and darted into the lovely warmth of the room, filled with the scents of their bodies, their breath. Sypha was little more than a lump curled under the quilts. Her face peeked out and Adrian longed to tell her he was sorry for upsetting her and for behaving as he had – but now wasn’t the time. She was fast asleep, breaths deep and slow. He made short work of stripping off and changing into dry breeches and a dry shirt. He didn’t have another coat, so he left his hanging over the chair to hopefully be dry in the morning. He tried to hang or drape his other garments as well. Before he darted from the room he could not resist giving Sypha a small peck on the forehead. Her brows drew together slightly at his cold touch but she didn’t waken. In another moment Adrian was closing the door gingerly, trying not to make a noise as he pulled it shut behind him. The whole thing took him maybe ten seconds at most.

“Thank you, that’s much more comfortable,” he answered Trevor’s questioning look.

“C’mon, lets take a walk.” Trevor led him down the stairs, his cloak and hair rustling with his movements. Adrian obligingly followed the Belmont heir, falling into step beside him as they took on a leisurely pace, following the still muddy trail that passed through the village and led into the forest beyond. The path narrowed after leaving the populated area. There were still small cottages and farms dotting the surrounding countryside, but mostly it dissolved into untamed wilderness. The trees arched high, twisted and stretching towards the night sky, which was finally clear and filled with a million points of starlight. There was a sliver of moon – barely a crescent – to illuminate the path just enough for Trevor to be able to follow it. Adrian knew that the hunter’s human senses could probably only see a tiny bit out here, but he had no such disadvantage. He could see as well as if it were midday. He could hear every little leaf rustling around them, and in general was quite at home in this setting. Trevor had to pick his way carefully through the uneven terrain, the going more difficult as the trees closed in over them and made it even harder to see. Adrian noticed that he had his weapons with him, just in case they came across something unpleasant. He realized he didn’t have his own sword, but he supposed it wasn’t absolutely necessary if there was trouble. For the moment he didn’t hear or smell anything out of place. A fox trotted swiftly in the underbrush somewhere ahead of them, and he sensed deer and rabbits here and there, but no night creatures.

Neither Adrian not Trevor were especially talented conversationalists. There was no difficulty speaking, it was simply that they didn’t usually have a lot to say. Trevor usually spoke more when Sypha was around, or when he was drunk. Adrian had always been quiet. He preferred to listen and observe, rather than expound on things. However, Trevor had joined him out here for a reason, and he was sure it wasn’t only to let Sypha sleep. They came upon a divergence in the path, the main road forking right and a smaller trail leading off to the left. Adrian smelled water to the left, and put a hand on Trevor’s forearm, pointing that way. He led, picking a trail that would be easiest for his comrade to follow. They ducked under some low pine boughs, sagged by the weight of rain still clinging to the needles, and eventually emerged at the edge of a small lake, calm as glass and reflecting the night sky. There were some flat boulders beneath a massive oak which were dryer than most of their muddy surroundings. Both men made a beeline for them. The light was better here, enough that Trevor managed not to trip over anything as he jumped onto the big rocks and stared out over the water. Adrian hopped up as well. It was a lovely scene, this small hidden lake set apart from the rest of the world, blanketed in nighttime and alive with the noises of frogs and crickets. Adrian closed his eyes and breathed in the damp smell of reeds and water lilies. The breeze was very slight, and crisp. It made his hair tickle his face where it stirred.

The sound of a cork being pulled from a flask made him crack an eye and he caught sight of Trevor’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a swallow of something from a small flask he had produced. It bore the Belmont family crest and was crafted of fine metal, the once polished surface now dulled by nicks and scratches. Trevor swallowed the mouthful and wiped his lips on the back of his hand, offering the flask to Adrian.

“I think I had enough earlier,” he refused, remembering his disgraceful conduct before. He’d wasted their coin and they hadn’t even drunk that bottle he’d taken from the tavern. He was embarrassed by how thoroughly drunk he’d gotten in such a short time, and by how poorly he’d conducted himself.

Trevor shrugged and re-corked the flask, tucking it away. “Maybe you’re right. I never expected you to be such a cheap drunk Adrian.”

“I don’t have as much practice as you do.”

Trevor laughed, stepping up beside Adrian on the flat rock and clapping a hand on his back. “If we live through all of this, I promise I’ll teach you all my secret techniques for being a functional alcoholic.”

Adrian sighed at that, reminded of what he’d said about them not living to see this time next year. Trevor diverted things to humour so easily, but he simply couldn’t do the same. He stared hard into the still water, his mind far away on their earlier discussions. His shoulders felt tense and tight with his anxiety. Trevor’s warm palm smoothed over his back, but he barely felt it.

“Hey,” the hunter intoned, hands on his upper arms, turning him so they were facing one another. Trevor tried to catch his eyes, the pale blue stare hard and serious. “Adrian. You gotta relax, its not going to do you any good to worry about every little detail that you can’t control. I am well-fucking-aware that we are probably going to die. I know this is a bleak mission, but we still have to do it. All those people in that village, and in every village and city we’ve been through are helpless. They can’t do anything. They don’t understand the enemy. They don’t have any chance, but we at least have each other. We have a better chance than any of them do. Those assholes killed my whole family, they disgraced my name and ruined my home, they killed your mother, but they are still innocent victims in this. Its not their fault they are ignorant shit-headed morons. Most of them are inbred peasants with a couple goats to their names if their lucky. But we aren’t. You aren’t. Sypha isn’t. She believes in you, maybe more than you believe in yourself. I believe in you Adrian. You’re more than you give yourself credit for. You’re strong. You’re capable. I absolutely forbid you to give up. And if you make me give you another heartfelt speech like that I’m throwing you in the fucking lake.”

Trevor’s fingers squeezed his arms, and the hunter gave him a shake, as if he could force the meaning of his words in with that physical gesture. Adrian stared at him unblinking, not expecting so much intensity from the grizzled hunter. Finally Trevor broke away, releasing his hold and returning his gaze to the water. He took another pull from his flask because that’s what he did when things got serious.

“I should apologize to Sypha,” Adrian murmured.

“Yes, you should. She was really shaken up. She had no idea that you were that scared to face off with your dad. I get the sense she thought you two were more equally matched and that you were just going to roll in and chop his head off.”

“If only it were that easy.” Adrian didn’t want to say that he didn’t think decapitation alone would even kill his father. They would need to render him to ash to accomplish that.

“Well, I mean that _is_ kind of the idea, but we have to actually get there first. I hope there is something in the Hold that will help us isolate the castle. I know there were lots of books about the castle itself, we just have to get ahold of them and see if there is anything helpful. We can get back on the road tomorrow, assuming the horses will be able to manage the wagon in the mud. There is nothing I love more than trying to repair a fucked up wagon wheel on the side of a muddy road with no tools and flies buzzing around my head.”

“We’ll see in the morning. Maybe we should go back.”

“Not yet, its nice out here. Been awhile since we had so many nights in a row without the horde crawling up our asses. Lets appreciate it while we can.”

Trevor stepped closer, the ruff of thick white fur from his cloak brushing against Adrian’s shoulder. Trevor surprised him by unfastening the cloak and swinging it over Adrian’s shoulders too, so they were both draped in it. It was very warm, and had a strong scent of Trevor which was not unpleasant to Adrian’s senses. The hunter curled a thick arm around his waist as he had earlier, pulling their bodies tightly together. He was so hot, it almost felt like he was fevered, but Adrian surmised this was more because he himself was absolutely freezing.

“Sypha thought you weren’t going to come back you know,” Trevor said quietly, and Adrian could smell whiskey on his breath. He felt another wave of guilt wash over him.

“I needed to be alone. I already told you both that.”

“I know. I understood, but she isn’t like that. She reaches out for her family when she’s upset. And those Speakers are the worst for talking everything over all the time. They have no secrets. They don’t really even do personal space. I guess that’s from traveling around together all the time. I’ve always traveled alone until you two came along. Fuck you’re still freezing. If you were a human you’d have hypothermia by now.”

“Don’t worry about me freezing,” Adrian said quietly, but he inched closer to the hunter’s heat, secretly loving the way it soaked into him and drew the cold out. The hand around his middle was heavenly.

“What does it feel like to you? Wait how do I say it so it makes sense… Well if I’m fucking cold all over I shiver, my teeth chatter, I need to get warm or things start to go numb, it hurts. You obviously don’t get those sensations. What does it feel like?”

Adrian thought about what he could say on the subject. He had literally never thought about it in his life. “It doesn’t feel like anything… there is no bodily urgency to change temperatures. There is no danger, so the shivering doesn’t happen. Nothing goes numb, there is no pain. Honestly the only thing that makes me have a comparable reaction is starvation.”

Trevor considered this, his hand working its way beneath the thin linen shirt and smoothing over Adrian’s abdomen. He couldn’t help a little intake of breath at the sensation of the burning palm over his skin. He melted against Trevor a bit, leaning into him. He tugged the fur cloak tighter around them both. “I’ve seen some desiccated vampires before, when I was traveling around as a teenager looking for bounties to cash in or whatever. They were like corpses, almost skeletal, skin all sunken, hair falling out. Would that happen to you if you didn’t eat for an extended period? Or is it different because you are half and half?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never starved myself long enough to experience that. I think it would, though. I’ve seen many vampires suffer that, it was one of father’s favourite punishments to dole out. There is a dungeon in the castle that is full of vampires chained up and left there to starve for decades on end. I went down there before, it was decidedly unpleasant. The fresher ones suffered the most. They screamed, they clawed at the restraints, but they were spelled so they could not turn into mist or bats or use some other method to escape. The younger vampires faded the fastest, essentially drying out and shriveling up. The older ones would eventually suffer the same way, only it took much longer. Even their eyes would rot away, their lips would pull back from their teeth as the skin shrank. They were still aware, still able to move and struggle, but as time passed they slowly passed into a death-like state. Only blood can restore them from that. Once or twice he had released someone by unshackling them and dragging them from the dungeon. They would be offered blood, too weak to move of their own accord, it would be spilled into their mouths. The regeneration happened very fast, then, as soon as the first few mouthfuls went down they would inevitably latch onto the sacrifice and drain it dry. I have no doubt that its an automatic reaction at that point. It is not a conscious attack. The body is moving out of need and instinct then.”

“Shit that is gross.”

Adrian shrugged. “I suppose. I’m hoping not to try it anytime soon.”

“Yeah I’m going to second that. I like you far better like this.” Trevor punctuated that statement with a grin. He adjusted his position, stepping slightly behind Adrian and wrapping both arms around his middle and leaning his chin on a shoulder. Adrian closed his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the muscular body holding him, the incredible heat pressed against his back. He felt like he was starting to warm up, wrapped in Trevor’s cloak and his arms. The hunter’s heart was beating against his back.

“What was it like traveling around on your own as a young man? Come to think of it, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four. And honestly it fucking sucked. I much preferred living in a fancy house with lots of food and the finest of everything, but hey, I didn’t exactly get a choice, like I told you the other night. My family was accused of practicing black magic by the same kind of religious assholes that accused your mom of witchcraft. They were convicted, and they were excommunicated. Those who didn’t fall in line and get out of Wallachia were executed. I managed to get away, but it was tough. I was pretty spoiled, I was used to having servants do everything for me. The first few weeks were the hardest. I slept in some awful places. I starved, I got sick, I almost died more times than I can count. Good thing Belmonts are hard to kill. I was always good with the sword, the whip. I was good at killing things, even as a kid. So I played on my strengths. I started hunting game, trapping animals in snares and the like. At first it was barely enough to feed myself. It was hard when I was sick and had nowhere to go when it rained or got cold, but I figured out how to skin things, and dried the hides, and eventually I had a warm place to sleep. I hung out on the outskirts of villages, and at night I’d sneak in and steal bread or cabbages or whatever. Anything I could get my hands on. And weapons. Shoes. That was a big one, because I hit a growth spurt and my feet just would not fit in my boots anymore and I almost had to go bare foot for a bit. Once I got good at living like that I started selling the extra meat and skins for coin. It got easier after that. One night I got back to my little camp and it was trashed, all my stuff was destroyed, my food reserves ransacked. I thought it was animals, but turns out it was a night creature, a monster. I caught it stuffing its face full of all my preserved meats. I kicked its ass. Then I started to remember all the things I’d been taught as a kid about my family's history killing demons and monsters and vampires. I decided that I was going to do that, do what I was born to do. Kill those motherfuckers. So I started to take bounties, traveling around and looking for trouble. I would go to a new village and hang out in the tavern, talk to the locals, find out what awful godforsaken thing plagued them, then chop its head off. And that’s basically what I’ve been doing until I met the Speakers.”

Trevor finished his story, his hands both working under Adrian’s shirt now, spreading heat in their wake. He felt Trevor pulling him closer as he tried to picture what his life must have been like. Suddenly Adrian felt a little guilty for being so emotional about his own circumstances when Trevor had suffered far more from a far younger age, and had not had anyone to support him. It was sort of amazing that he was even alive, and even more impressive that he was so capable. Adrian twisted around in his arms, facing him. They were almost nose to nose, only he was just a bit taller than the hunter.

“I never realized how much you’d been through. I am sorry I made such a scene about my own hardships.”

Trevor’s mouth softened into a wide smile. “Well you _are_ a little high maintenance. Don’t be sorry. You feel what you feel. I’m not the one who has to kill their own father. And all that other shit is in the past. Just leave it there. Its was over with a long time ago. Yeah some bad shit happened, but I said it before. Life is hard. Then you told me that remembering won’t change it. I strongly recommend getting drunk. Works like a charm. I barely remember half of the last ten years.”

Adrian frowned at that, realizing that maybe the hunter was better at hiding his feelings than he’d initially realized. Certainly he was practiced at covering them up with alcohol. Or humour. “Is that why you like to drink so much? To forget?”

Trevor’s expression hardened at that, his eyes darting away from Adrian’s gold stare. “I guess, but its not like I have some specific reason. I just like it. It feels good. It makes it easier to sleep on the shitty ground. It makes it easier to keep my head when some fuckface monster is trying to rip it off.” Trevor tried to disentangle himself from their embrace, evidently uncomfortable with that line of questioning. Funny, he could talk about all kinds of awful things, and that was the topic that made him shy away. Adrian didn’t want to let him go. He wrapped his arms around the other man, trying to recapture his eyes, but Trevor twisted free, leaving him wearing the man’s fur cloak with its heat and scent. Adrian pulled it around his shoulders, unwilling to let it go just yet. Trevor wandered across some of the rocks, kicking a few loose stones into the water. There was an uncomfortable silence between them that Adrian felt responsible for.

Thankfully Trevor was not unaware of this, and turned, eyeing him wearing the cloak. “That looks good on you. You know you’re ridiculously attractive, right?”

Now it was Adrian’s turn to feel put on the spot. He blushed, shifting uncomfortably. “Uhm, ok...”

Trevor grinned, shivering from the cold. He clearly enjoyed having the upper hand. He was doing it on purpose. He liked putting Adrian on the spot, making him unsure. It was working. He hated that kind of attention. It made him freeze up and forget intelligible speech, like it was doing now and that bastard knew it!

“We should go back to the inn. Sypha’s alone. She will wonder where we went if she wakes up.”

Trevor snorted at him, shaking his head and closing the distance between them, slipping back under the cloak. Adrian could feel his body shivering. “Its pitch black out here and I can see you blushing. Are you embarrassed that I think you’re so pretty Adrian?”

The hunter pushed a tendril of hair out of Adrian’s face, and he swallowed, feeling his cheeks burn even hotter. He couldn’t seem to formulate a response. “I… uhh...”

That only encouraged him further. Trevor slipped a hand up the back of his shirt, the heated palm smoothing over the line of his spine and his shoulder blades. He crushed Adrian against him, their noses touching. “You are the sexiest fucking man I have ever met,” it came out as a low growl, the words vibrating the broad chest that was pressed against his own. His heart was thundering suddenly, a nervous excited feeling twisting low in his belly. He had to admit, he really liked it when Trevor took charge. Something about the whiskey on his breath, the hard look in his eye, the confident way that he spoke – it was very attractive. He thought back to that morning, the way Trevor had kissed him so intensely, how he’d sucked on the skin at his throat until it bruised, how he’d bitten at his lips until it hurt. He was doing it again. He was using that confidence and that edge to coax a response from him. It was working.

“Uhm… but Sypha...”

“Sypha will be fine. She is pretty much the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met. She will be just fine by herself for a little while.”

“But.. uhh..”

“Adrian?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Trevor kissed him then, crushing their bodies together beneath the fur cloak. His free hand ran along Adrian’s torso, pushing his shirt up, feeling the planes of his body. The roughness of his calloused palm scraped along his flesh, a sharp contrast to the smoothness of his own skin. The hand twisted into his own and grabbed it, pushing it between them and over the hardening bulge in Trevor’s breeches. He stiffened at the sensation, staring wide-eyed into Trevor’s ice blue eyes.

“You’ve been making me crazy for weeks. Do you feel how fucking hard I am? I haven’t come in three days, and I had to watch Sypha blow you this morning. I know how good that feels, she is amazing. I got to smell her pussy on you, and watched her swallow you whole and I got nothing. Last night you pretty much made me lose it with that vampire shit, the fucking fangs and the claws, you Goddamned tease, and nothing. If I don’t come soon I’m going to lose my fucking mind. I can’t take it anymore. Both of you are so hot and watching you together is torture. I’ve had a half boner the entire day. I _need_ to come.”

Trevor’s cheeks were flushed and it wasn’t from alcohol. The message was clear and Adrian felt like he was being put on the spot pretty hard, but there was no denying how incredibly arousing it was to hear him talk like that. He relaxed against Trevor, allowing his tongue entry, melting into the kiss and letting his fangs scrape gently along the other man’s lips. He felt a shiver run through the hard body against him, Trevor’s hips twitching when his hand rubbed over the obtuse bulge between his legs. There was a sense of urgency in his kiss; it wasn’t like before when he was exploring Adrian’s mouth for the first time, or this morning when he had been doing everything in his power to make it as pleasurable as possible for Adrian. This time he was greedily sucking on his mouth, extracting whatever he could. He bit his lips hard, much harder than before, enough that it would be pretty painful to a human. Adrian broke the kiss, peering at Trevor studiously. Trevor panted against him and fumbled with the strings at his fly with his free hand. He grabbed Adrian’s hand and pushed it into his pants, veritably growling against Adrian’s mouth when his hand found its prize and circled around his cock. It was rock hard, throbbing and twitching in the tight confines of his breeches.

Trevor shuddered against him, sucking in a breath when Adrian tightened his grip, pulling the organ free of its confinement and into the space between them. The hand which had been on his back crushing them together until this point moved up into his hair, tangling there and urging Adrian’s face closer, lower, against his neck where the hunter’s natural scent filled his senses. Damn he smelled good. He felt Trevor’s lips at his ear, then his teeth were closing on it, over the slightly pointed cartilage, then he was biting down harder than was pleasurable. Adrian pulled back and gave him an annoyed look.

“Why do you keep biting me?”

Trevor had the wherewithal to look somewhat guilty, but his sincerity was questionable. “I can’t help it, when I get really turned on I get a little rough, I kinda figured you’d be into it.”

Adrian’s first instinct was to be insulted by the assumption, especially considering their conversation last night where Trevor specifically told him he wasn’t interested in him for his vampire features. He was getting a strong message to the contrary, but he really couldn’t deny that it was having the intended effect. He liked when Trevor was assertive, he liked when he was demanding. At this moment he was both of those things. It was as if he was goading Adrian, testing him to see if he could arouse some animal side of him, but he was going to be disappointed because he was not going to lose control of himself so easily. He didn’t know what to say. He frowned, pushing Trevor a few inches back with a palm over his chest. The man’s heart was racing.

“I’m not an animal,” he answered in an even tone. Trevor gave him a heated look and grabbed the hand on his chest, bringing Adrian’s fingers to his mouth. He closed his lips over the middle finger, tongue working against it, sucking the digit into the warmth of his mouth suggestively. As he did this the fingers in his hair slid down, over his neck, his back, down to his breeches and inside the waist, clutching his ass cheek firmly. The hand was hot on his skin, his palm roughly squeezing his flesh. His cock ground against Adrian’s hip shamelessly as he released one finger and went for another, repeating the sucking motion, biting his finger hard, then laving it with his warm wet lips and tongue. The mix of teeth and tongue was undeniably pleasurable, made all the more arousing by the heated expression that Trevor was giving him. He was hiding nothing, he had been thoroughly honest about his feelings. When he released the second finger he caught Adrian’s mouth in his again, once more delivering a bruising kiss, now letting Adrian explore him for a moment, then seizing control of the exchange once more and running his tongue along the small fangs in a way he knew would get a reaction. As he did this his finger traced between Adrian’s ass cheeks, sliding suggestively between them before slipping back out of his breeches altogether and pulling Adrian hard against his body.

“I don’t care what you are. I want you. I’ll take whatever you give me. Just let me touch you for fuck’s sake Adrian I’m losing my fucking mind.” This was said between a barrage of kisses to his lips, jaw and throat, and punctuated by more hard nips at his flesh. Who exactly was supposed to be the vampire here? It was working though, Adrian was sinking against him, he was hardening, it was incredibly arousing to be so flattered by this man, to be worshiped by him like this, pulled together so tight that Trevor’s cock was digging into him and now he was feeling his own body responding in turn. He let Trevor rake his short nails along his flesh beneath his shirt, his palm resting in the small of his back. The hunter put Adrian’s hand on him again, sliding his organ into the palm, groaning at the sensation of it.

“Mmm fuck that feels amazing,” he said in a low voice, his eyes falling shut.

Adrian realized this would be much easier with something to lean against, such as the large tree that was stretched over them. He levitated them closer to the tree, pushing Trevor’s back against the broad trunk.

“When I can think straight I’m going to make you do that again, as if you can fucking fly,” the hunter mumbled in between kisses. Adrian decided not to answer that one. He was nervous, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself. He knew what Trevor wanted and he didn’t know if he could give it to him. He barely felt comfortable touching himself. While this entire thing was very exciting, he felt a lot of pressure to do something he had never done to another person. Should he use his hand? His mouth? Did Trevor want something more intimate than that? The hunter seemed very comfortable with all of this but Adrian was still a virgin at the end of the day and all of his sexual experiences had basically happened in the last twenty-four hours. Some kissing and a blow job. That was everything. He hesitated, still stroking Trevor’s cock, but his uncertainty was showing through. The hunter finally realized that something was wrong and gave him a searching stare.

“What is it?” he asked.

Adrian berated himself for his lack of experience and his hesitation. “I’m not sure what you want me to do… specifically,” he said slowly, trying not to make that sound as pathetic as it probably did.

Trevor stared at him for a second, processing. He put both hands on Adrian’s shoulders, squeezing gently and leaning in for a slower kiss, though the urgency was still there, not far beneath the surface. He spoke into Adrian’s ear, breath hot. “I want you to get on your knees and suck my dick,” he said evenly, clearly, making no veiled insinuations. As he spoke he dropped a hand between them and cupped the dhampir’s genitals in his palm, stroking the growing bulge in his breeches.

Just like that Adrian felt himself harden all the way, the uncertainty overshadowed by the assertive tone in the hunter’s voice, by his direct instruction and by the hand rubbing him through his clothes. He slipped out of the warmth of the cloak and lowered himself slowly, watching Trevor’s eyes as he did, not missing the way the hunter’s heart rate sped up in response. He stared up at Trevor, then at his cock. It was engorged and standing out proudly between them. The foreskin was pushed back by the swollen head, which was slick with moisture. His firm, flat stomach had a small trail of darkened hair leading down to to root of his organ, which sprang up from the dark curls. His testicles seemed tight, heavy, and Adrian could smell the male scent from him, the scent of cock and balls and Trevor’s own natural musk. He had never thought that would be an arousing scent, but he had to admit that he throbbed as he breathed it in. He curled his hand around the base and heard Trevor suck in a breath, his abdominal muscles tightening in anticipation. He ran his hand along the length and was rewarded by a few more drops weeping from the tip, the hunter leaning more heavily against the tree. Trevor’s fingers wove into his hair, touching him, stroking his head in encouragement.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he observed, not taking his eyes off of Adrian.

The dhampir dipped his head forward and experimentally tasted the tip with his tongue. It was salty, slippery. The texture was smooth, and the whole thing was very hot against his mouth. He moved his tongue around in a swirling motion and was rewarded with Trevor’s fingers tightening in his hair, the man groaning in encouragement. Adrian gained some confidence and dipped his mouth over the head, careful not to allow his teeth to scrape along the sensitive flesh. That was harder than he’d expected, because his fangs were particularly sharp. He closed his lips around the organ and let it slide further into his mouth as his hand wrapped around the base, stroking it in time with his mouth’s movements. That got a very positive reaction, with Trevor’s thighs quivering and his weight sagging into the tree.

“Oh fuck yes,” he encouraged, fingers pulling Adrian’s hair unconsciously.

Adrian kept on this vein, alternating between swirling his tongue around his head and licking along the whole length, and sliding it into his mouth, experimenting with what might feel good. It didn’t take long for Trevor to unravel, twitching and panting and swearing, his hands trembling as he gripped Adrian's hair like a lifeline.

“I’m.. fuck I’m already close, shit,” he was literally shaking. He peered up at Trevor, his mouth and hands full, eyes searching for an indication that he should continue. Trevor’s face was flushed, his cheeks red, his eyes were looking down at him with a strange erotic expression that he’d never seen before. His lips parted, breath short and quick. “Fuck Adrian you got me so worked up I can’t stand it, I’m gonna come,” he panted, pushing Adrian’s head onto him harder, until he was hitting his throat. The sensation was unexpected. He almost gagged trying to adjust, but he managed, relaxing his mouth and throat, letting Trevor’s cock slide deeper. He heard the hunter say something else but it was mostly expletives and the he felt his body tightening, muscles tensing and then his mouth was filling, it went into his throat and he made the mistake of trying to breathe in at the same time and ended up choking, suddenly erupting into a coughing fit. Trevor was in the middle of his orgasm, his body taut and his eyes closed in pleasure when Adrian pushed himself back, sputtering and trying in vain to breathe around the gob in his airway. His eyes widened in alarm and Trevor looked at him in surprise but he couldn’t stop what had been set in motion, his cock spurting another wave of sticky ejaculate on Adrian’s chin and chest, even as he was still choking on the part that was stuck in his throat.

Trevor stared at him in surprise, his dick twitching and dripping one last string of white as Adrian struggled to breathe and made a bunch of attempts to clear his throat, spitting out what he could and finally taking a deep breath. He could feel the bit on his face getting cold. He stared at Trevor for a long second, absolutely mortified, finally pulling off his shirt and wiping the come from his face, and the tears from choking out of the corners of his eyes. Trevor seemed to be trying very hard not to but in the end it was just too much and he burst into loud laughter, sagging down the tree and pulling Adrian against him while he laughed his ass off.

Adrian thought he might actually die of embarrassment. He threw his soiled shirt onto the rocks and tried to squirm out of Trevor’s arms, pushing the hunter off of him and getting to his feet.

“Don’t leave, C’mon Adrian don’t, just give me a second,” Trevor clutched his stomach, trying to catch his breath through his fit of giggles. “You know that was funny, come on don’t be all upset,” he pleaded with attempted sincerity.

When Adrian didn’t heed those requests he grew more serious, standing up and following the dhampir as he stalked into the trees. He couldn’t really see where he was going, as evidenced by his stumbling. “Adrian, don’t run away, its fucking dark out here and I can’t see shit. Come back! Please?”

Adrian had already disappeared into the trees and he knew Trevor would not be able to follow him easily, though he _could_ sense where he was, but that was about it. He didn’t want Trevor to see his face, see that he was on the verge of tears despite himself. Objectively he knew it was funny and it was not really a big deal, but some fragile part of him was so terrified of this first experience and was crushed by the resulting feelings of shame and embarrassment. He had been scared to try this, scared that he would be terrible at it, scared because it was new and it made him vulnerable and now he’d gone and made it a joke. He leaned against the trunk of a large tree and sucked in a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves. The bark jabbed his bare back but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around himself, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He was a grown man and he was not going to _cry_ over something so foolish. Trevor was right and he knew it. He just needed a moment to convince his stupid feelings of that.

“Adrian?” Trevor was moving towards him loudly, his feet crunching on dead leaves and tripping over roots he couldn’t see. “Come on man, please come back. You know I can’t see in the dark – ow – Adrian?”

It would be cruel to make him go traipsing through the underbrush in the dark for much longer, he was going to have to face his fears. He returned to Trevor’s side in an instant, saving him the trouble of delving further into the dark woods.

Trevor sensed his movement and turned toward him, his expression relieved. “Hey, shit happens, its not a big deal, you know that, right?” he reached out for him, and Adrian allowed himself to be pulled into his arms. Trevor removed his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders, though it was unnecessary and left the hunter shivering in the crisp night. “Sometimes funny shit happens in sex, its not the first time and it wont be the last. You can't take that stuff too seriously. You were still fucking incredible.” he reassured, and Adrian was suddenly aware that he was acting like a teenage girl. He deflated, peering at Trevor’s face.

“You’re right.”

Trevor nodded. “I am. Lets go back to the inn. I’m beat, and it will be nice to sleep with Sypha.”

They began to pick their way back to the main path, Adrian leading the way and Trevor following close behind. When the path widened out they were able to walk side by side and Trevor slipped an arm around him as was becoming habit. He was obviously freezing in the cold night air. Adrian lifted the cloak around him so they were sharing it like before. It felt good to walk with Trevor in silence, the awkwardness having passed and his tensions eased. As they approached the town he stopped and turned to face Trevor, pulling him into a kiss. They stood there in the dark, wrapped together in the fur cloak, and kissed under the stars. When they pulled apart they were both a little breathless, and both eager to get into the warmth of the room. They made their way up the stairs, pushing the door open as quietly as possible and stripped off, crawling into the bed. Trevor took the middle this time and Adrian followed him in. Sypha stirred in her sleep, awoken by their return.

“You’re both like ice,” she mumbled tiredly.

Adrian realized he hadn’t spoken to her since freaking out earlier, and he leaned across Trevor and kissed her gingerly. “I’m sorry about earlier Sypha, lets talk about it tomorrow,” he said, feeling much better just for saying those words.

She smiled at him and fell back asleep before she could say anything in answer.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	6. Part Six

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

  


  


**Part Six**

  


Adrian was a light sleeper. He needed little sleep as it was, and he rarely relaxed deeply enough to sleep through much. However, he had managed to so thoroughly tire himself out the day before that he slept hard and deep, and was not the first one up the next morning.

  


He was aware of someone giggling nearby, then there was a bump, the sound of furniture sliding over wooden floorboards, and more snickers.

  


“Ow, hey!”

  


“Shhh… shut up. He’s still sleeping.”

  


“Ow! Quit pinching me!”

  


“I’ll quit when you shut up.”

  


“I’ll shut up when you quit it.”

  


“Oh that’s it, you’re gonna get it.” There were more scuffling noises, then a low moan.

  


“Mmm that’s perfect Trev.” That one was definitely Sypha’s voice.

  


“You’re damn right. Now be quiet and let sleeping beauty have a few more minutes.”

  


“Oh yes sir.” The sarcasm was evident.

  


“Fuck I love when you call me that.” There was the distinct sound of the desk hitting the wall.

  


“What, sir?”

  


_Thunk, thunk, thunk._

  


“Fuck yes. Shit you’re so wet, you feel so good.”

  


“Ow, don’t bite!” There was a resounding slap, then an answering growl and the thunking noise started to get louder and faster.

  


“Mmmm but it pisses you off so much. Go ahead and slap me again and see where it gets you.” His voice was lower now, closer to a growl. He panted in between his words.

  


What on earth was going on? Adrian cracked an eye open, stifling a groan as he stretched out of his oddly folded position. The quilts were tangled around his legs. He was warm and the bed was empty save for him. He peered out from under a curtain of blonde, trying to see what the hell the other two were on about.

  


He was greeted with the sight of Trevor bare-assed and Sypha laid out naked on her back on the little desk, her legs over his shoulders. Trevor had one knee on the desk and one foot on the floor. He was wearing his boots and nothing else. Sypha’s arms reached above her head for the wall beside the desk, keeping her from being pushed off the edge of the poor furniture every time Trevor drove into her. His face was buried against her neck – a red hand print slowly darkening on his cheek – and he had one hand bracing himself on the wall, the other on her breast, squeezing it and pinching her nipple mercilessly. Their bodies joined at the hip, and Adrian could smell sex. His first reaction was to jump up out of bed and give them some privacy but he quickly realized that it wasn’t necessary. In fact he was certain they wouldn’t mind being observed. He had to admit they looked good. They had not noticed that he’d woken up yet.

  


“Ow, Trevor I said don’t bite! Hey!” Sypha’s voice was somewhere between irritated and aroused; she was breathing heavily and her tone was husky. Trevor was clearly not listening to her. Adrian saw a few bruises along her throat, hickeys and little crescents where his teeth had closed down on her pale skin. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and squeezed it hard, eliciting another yelp and a slap from her. She got his arm this time, leaving another slowly darkening hand-shaped mark. He drove into her harder, the desk sliding across the floor closer to the wall with each thrust.

  


“Fuck you’re so hot when you’re mad,” Trevor answered, catching her mouth in his before she could protest. She arched under him as they kissed, messily sucking at one another’s lips and tongues in between gasps for air. Adrian watched silently, not daring to move. This was unexpected, their bodies were slicked in sweat, they were beautiful and it was beginning to get him going as well. The sound of Sypha’s angry voice dissolving into pleasured whimpers was erotic.

  


Trevor released her mouth and she whined in protest. “Uhn, harder Trev, unh, please, like that, oh that’s good, faster Trev,” she begged him, one of her hands snaking into his hair and grabbing onto it tight. She wrenched his head back and he snatched her wrist, pinning it down on the desktop beside her. Her reaction was immediate, her body tightening under his. He lowered his mouth to her breast, closing his teeth over her nipple in punishment. Adrian could see that he was biting her hard, he knew that had to hurt. She yelped but didn’t try to stop him. With her legs over his shoulders they were pushed back, her knees almost beside her head when Trevor leaned down to her breast. He sunk deep into her, her hips coming off the desk, which had now hit the wall. Her unpinned arm was keeping her head from being the next thing to thunk against the wall as Trevor buried himself in her again. She was groaning now, a deep guttural noise of pleasure.

  


Trevor released her breast, slowing his thrusts and letting her arm free. He kept his hands on her legs, pushing them further so she had one knee on either side of her head, her feet up in the air. He straightened and slowly drew his cock from inside her body. Oh Lord that was sexy. Adrian could see him pulling out inch by inch, he could see the way she was stretched open around him, the way her body twitched in pleasure as he withdrew teasingly. When he was all the way out except for the head of his member he caught her eyes. “Look at us Syph, look how fucking hot it is when I fuck you, look how hard you make me,” he ordered her, but she was already watching with a hazy look in her eyes.

  


“Make me come,” she said in answer, her voice low.

  


In response Trevor slid back inside her painfully slowly, then out again. Her body shuddered, her muscles tightening, and Adrian could see that she was even wetter now, her juices coating Trevor’s organ and leaking along her slit. Adrian’s body was answering their erotic show by getting thoroughly hard. The blankets tented over his erection and he slid a hand down to wrap around himself, breathing in through his teeth at the sensation as he slid his hand along his own length. If they were going to have sex right there beside him it was probably fine to enjoy the show. He was more comfortable with the idea now, after breaking the ice around all things sexual in the last few days. He tried to remain silent as he stroked himself – they were incredible and he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  


Sypha was now breathing short and fast and Trevor was pounding into her hard enough that her head was almost hitting the wall and the desk was knocking against it every time he pushed himself deeper inside her. He let her knees go and she hooked her ankles over his shoulders. He was breathing hard, his chest red like his cheeks, the muscles in his legs and arms popping up under his skin as they moved together. Sypha’s arms were free now, so she grabbed at his thighs, touching him wherever she could.

  


“Trev I want it harder, don’t hold back,” she broke off to breathe, “Please, harder.”

  


Trevor quite literally growled in pleasure and closed his hand around her throat. Her eyes fell shut and Adrian could hear her choking under his palm, but she only arched under him and made strangled mewling noises, the desk thudding against the wall hard enough to leave a mark in the wood. He hammered into her harder, fast, her face reddening from his hand at her throat, her eyes opening to watch him glassy and rapt, pupils blown wide, her breath silent and choked off.

  


“I’m gonna come Syph, fuck you’re so fucking tight,” he managed to bite out before his body went rigid at the same instant as hers did, his hips driving deep, his hand closing tight, her nails sinking into the flesh of his back and dragging ten deep furrows across him as they both erupted together. At the last moment Trevor pulled out and ejaculated across her sex and her belly, releasing her neck so she could suck in a much needed breath. Adrian furiously jerked himself off at the scene, having never witnessed anything like that in his life. He hadn’t even _thought_ of anything that erotic before. He didn’t think people could enjoy being rough like that, the way he’d driven into her, choked her, the way she’d scratched him so deep he was now bleeding sluggishly from the marks her nails left. Adrian had not imagined enough sexual fantasies to know if he had a kink, or what he liked, but he knew _that_ was incredible. The smell of Trevor’s blood in the air woke his instincts and that pushed him closer to his own orgasm, the scent of their bodies, their pheromones, the images of Trevor fucking her so hard and her begging him to go harder. Is _that_ what he could expect if he kept this up with them? Did they want _him_ like that? Did… did Sypha want him to do that to her? Did Trevor want to do something like that to him?

  


The pair were still catching their breath, Sypha running her hands back through her hair and laying limp on the desk, her legs hanging off the end, Trevor’s ejaculate drying on her belly while she slowly regained her wits. Trevor was on the little chair, also breathing hard, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head back against the wall. His chin length brown hair was matted to his forehead and his chest and shoulders shone with perspiration. Adrian couldn’t mask the sound of his own breath catching in his throat as he reached orgasm, teeth clenched, lips drawn back, fangs bared in pleasure, the scent of sex and blood in the air a potent aphrodisiac to him. The blood smell was so tied to that side of him it worked him up on its own, but combined with everything else he couldn’t help his body’s reactions. He came into the quilt, several spurts of warm sticky fluid soaking into the fabric. He stilled, eyes closed, the image of Trevor and Sypha moments before playing out in his mind. That image was essentially burned there as the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed, and he knew that he would not soon forget it.

  


When he was slightly more composed he opened his eyes and was greeted by two lazy smiles, both his partners apparently having watched him finish himself. He blinked the red from his eyes, forcing them to clear, forcing his instincts to calm. It had been some time since he had consumed blood of any kind. He would probably need to soon. They were both watching him appreciatively.

  


“Uh, good morning,” he said finally with a guilty look as he tried to wipe his hand clean on the blanket with some kind of subtlety. He felt sorry for whoever had to clean this room after they left.

  


“Hmm,” Sypha drawled, pushing herself into a sitting position and stretching her arms over her head. “Morning,” she said sweetly. She looked down at the mess all over her. “I think we need another bath. That or Trevor’s gotta lick me clean.”

  


Trevor shot her a disgusted look, “Gross, not a chance. Once its past the threshold its your problem.”

  


Sypha frowned at him, but it was not a serious expression. “Adrian?” she ventured hopefully.

  


“I’ll pass,” he answered, pushing himself free of the covers and standing up. He indulged in a little stretch and offered her a clean handkerchief from one of their bags. “Here, use this.”

  


She accepted it and tried her best to wipe herself clean. “Trev you gotta quit doing this,” she muttered, hopping off the desk which seemed wobblier than it had been before. She began searching out her robes and undergarments and combing her fingers through her hair.

  


“Well if you want to be a mom be my guest, but I feel like that’s really going to interfere with our lifestyle, you know? Try killing something with a kid on your hip. Anyway we should get the horses ready and get on the road, we lost a day already and its after breakfast. We aren’t going to make very good time today. We’ll have to travel through the night.” Trevor rose to his feet, still wearing only his boots. Adrian eyed them skeptically, but he was being distracted by something else. Trevor’s back was still bleeding a bit, and he’d left smudges of blood on the back of the chair. It certainly wasn’t the first time the man had bled around him. In fact that occurred with disturbing regularity thanks to their tendency to battle monsters. While such things were normally easy for Adrian to ignore, he could not deny that it was proving more difficult than usual when paired with all of this sexual activity. He frowned.

  


“You’re bleeding,” he commented softly, looking away from the scratches and searching out his clothing and his few other belongings in the room. He certainly could not afford to be so concerned every time one of them bled or he’d spend the next several weeks torturing himself almost daily. How disgraceful. How offensive that he would even think such things about these two who meant more to him than anyone.

  


Trevor paused in pulling on his clothes and twisted, trying to see what Adrian was referring to. Evidently he hadn’t even realized it. “Oh, shit. I guess I am. Damn Syph, your claws are sharper and Adrian’s,” he grinned at her and pulled his shirt on over the scratches, not caring about such a small thing. The shirt stuck to the little wounds and a few drops soaked into it. Trevor pulled on his other layers and the scent was masked, as was the appearance of the blood. The hunter affixed his short sword and his whip to his belt and ensured he had all of his other smaller weapons, throwing knives, daggers and the like in the right places.

  


Adrian sighed and dressed himself, dismayed at the mud still marring the bottom of his trench. If only they had a little more time to get their things cleaned up again, but Trevor was correct. They were making terrible time and they needed to get back on the road. This had been a lovely interlude, but the horde didn’t stop for anything.

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

  


A few hours later found Adrian sitting in the back of the covered wagon with Trevor and Sypha in the bench seat, driving the horses at a painfully slow pace along the path towards the Belmont Hold. They were not going to reach it tonight, it was still two or three days travel away and the horses had to work twice as hard to pull the laden cart through the muddy ruts in the path. Deep puddles occasionally blocked the path entirely. Sypha used her magic to freeze these and allow easier passage, but she could only do so much. One time Adrian had needed to lift the cart to free it from a particularly nasty spot of mud which would have grounded a less capable group of travelers entirely. The going was slow and bumpy. Adrian was tired of being jostled around in the cart and his patience with the meager progress was wearing thin.

  


It was with great relief that they eventually emerged from the muddy path to some open plains and higher ground. The landscape stretched before them in a vast sea of forest, lakes and rivers, dotted with rolling meadows and farmland. They were exposed here, and Adrian was uncomfortable in the bright and unrelenting sun. It did not harm him, but it did reduce his abilities to some extent and bothered his eyes. He was concerned that they would be forced to spend the night here in this unprotected area without cover of trees or other geographical features. The sun was waning, setting directly ahead of them and preventing them from seeing what lay ahead. He did not like feeling like a sitting duck. Trevor was equally aware of their exposed position, his eyes darting sharply around to any shadowed areas, searching for possible trouble. Sypha was focused on leading the horses and keeping the cart on the path, but she too knew well enough that they were in a vulnerable place.

  


“I think we should reach those trees before sundown,” she said when they crested the apex of the large hill they had been climbing. It was the highest point for miles, and gave them the best view of what lay ahead. There was still more of the plain to cover, but there were some structures near the very edge of the open space that looked like homes or barns. “There could be people in those buildings? Maybe we could stay there for the night.”

  


Trevor shook his head. “I don’t like it out here, even a small fire would attract attention. The light and smoke would be like a beacon. We have to keep going unless we can’t. If the horses tire then we will stop.”

  


“I guess you’re right. I know we have traveled a lot at night, but the road was wider then, and busier. Out here there is less risk in the day,” she frowned, squinting into the sun to try and make out what lay ahead.

  


Adrian poked his head from the front of the cart. “I’ll drive the horses after dark and you can sit in the wagon. We started late, they should be able to go through the night if we keep the pace down,” he didn’t add that he was much better off at night as well, and that he thought the idea of any of them sleeping at night and letting down their guard was a terrible idea when the enemy was the horde. She knew that already, she was just uncomfortable because she couldn’t see anything in the dark.

  


They plodded on, eventually coming to the edge of the forest again, around the same time as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. What had looked like some buildings from far away had turned out to be little more than piles of rubble, long since destroyed and abandoned. They moved into the thick cover of the trees, immediately feeling the chill damp. Adrian saw the way Trevor pulled his cloak tighter, and Sypha wrapped her robe closer around her slight form. He hopped out of the cart and walked beside it for awhile, thankful for the opportunity to stretch his legs.

  


The forest was still, quiet. Trevor said he knew the way, and that this stretch would be the longest, basically an undisturbed wilderness for at least a full day’s travel. They went on for hours, the sky nearly pitch since the tiny moon from the night before was even smaller now, barely a wisp of white through the occasional break in the trees. Eventually Adrian could see that Trevor was starting to tire, he wasn’t saying much and Sypha poked him in the arm a few times to keep him focused. They switched off, Trevor getting into the wagon to rest as Adrian joined Sypha on the bench seat. He took the reins, though the horses were mostly just following the trail on their own and keeping to a leisurely pace.

  


Sypha leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Its a beautiful night,” she said after some time riding together in silence.

  


Adrian put his arm around her, and she snuggled against him more tightly. “Are you tired Sypha? You can rest if you want, I can keep watch,” he offered.

  


“No, I’m ok for now, I like riding like this, it reminds me of my family. Long stretches on the road are where I have some of my best memories. It was always like this for us. Always moving. It feels more normal than staying in one place.”

  


There was an easy silence between them for a bit after she said that, just the sounds of the horses breathing and their hooves on the path, accompanied by the creaking of the wagon. Adrian realized that he had never talked with her about yesterday. It would be easier not to, but he felt a responsibility to own his actions and his words. It would not be right to avoid the discussion. He straightened up and she turned to face him, meeting his eyes in the dim light of their single lantern. “Sypha I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday, for the way I behaved. It was disgraceful,” he began, thinking back on how he had grabbed the tavern girl’s wrist. He hadn’t even realized he’d hurt her, and then he’d shot down all of Sypha’s understanding and encouraging words. He’d gone to hysterics and pushed his friends away when they were trying to be understanding. He tried to stifle the ashamed expression but he knew she could tell, even in the dark.

  


She didn’t immediately brush it off though, she stared at him for a long moment, searching for something. “You don’t believe we will succeed,” she said finally, her brilliantly blue eyes hard. The lantern cast long shadows, darkening half her face. “You said this was a fool’s errand.”

  


Adrian sighed, not wanting to rehash this but knowing that it was his fault she was saying it at all. He couldn’t help but look guilty. “I did say that, but I was upset. I was emotional.”

  


She straightened further, fire stirring in her. She wasn’t going to let this go just because it was unpleasant. “We often reveal what we wish to keep hidden when our feelings are stirred up. You said what you thought was true.”

  


Adrian was frustrated by her accusation, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He returned his gaze to the path ahead. “That isn’t fair Sypha,” he said quietly, trying not to get angry. “You can’t know how powerful he is, how laughable the idea of beating him is.”

  


She made a derisive noise. “Then why did you agree to fight with us? Why would you make us think that we could beat him? I remember what you said the day we found you, that we could do it together. You never said that we would definitely die and probably not succeed.”

  


“I… didn’t know what else to do. I thought that with help I could do it, I thought I would stand a chance.”

  


Sypha glared at him angrily. He couldn’t break away from her piercing stare. “I can’t believe you think so little of us. I can’t believe you’re such a coward.”

  


Adrian growled at that, despite himself. If this were Trevor talking they would likely come to blows if this line kept up. As it was he hardened his jaw setting, his fists balling. How dare she? “I am _not_ a coward.”

  


Sypha crossed her arms, turning her head. “That isn’t what I’m hearing. We’ve trusted you this whole time. We’ve followed you, believing that it was the best chance for Wallachia, for all of us. Are we not what you expected from your scholar and hunter? Are we not good enough to fight beside you Adrian? You just said you thought _you_ could do it with help, you thought _you_ would have a chance. What are we then, your sidekicks?”

  


Adrian felt a flare of anger rising in him. He had never expected that his apology would be turned back on him like this. Who did she think she was? Did she not understand? Even after all the battles, after all the things they had already been through? Did she not see?

  


“You are _humans_ Sypha, you are so fragile, so easy to kill, so helpless!”

  


Sypha stood up in the wagon, snatching the reins and halting the horses progress. “You say that like we are less than you. We are _not_ helpless. Trevor and I have never backed down from any fight. We have never run scared and we have killed out fair share of beasts without your help. You battled with him when we first found you and he had you, he had a stake in your breast and I had a fireball at your head. We are your friends! We are on your side! Why are you doing this?”

  


Why _was_ he doing this? The anger gnawed at him, he was itching for a fight and Sypha seemed more than ready to reciprocate. Why was he picking arguments with his only allies? He jumped off the box seat to the ground beside the horses, turning to look up at her, the lantern glinting in his eyes and casting a bright halo behind her. She stared down at him, arms crossed in defiance. He didn’t answer her right away, instead they stared at one another, bristling, neither budging. She moved suddenly and his hand went to the hilt of his sword instinctively. Her eyes widened and she glared at him, insulted. “You would draw your sword? Really? Is that how deep your loyalties lie Adrian, that you would turn on us at the slightest provocation? What has gotten into you?”

  


By this time Trevor was poking his head from the wagon’s cover, watching them. He hadn’t made any move to interrupt, evidently wanting to let them settle their own argument, but he jumped out of the wagon finally, putting himself between them. “You two need to stop this. You’re acting like children. We’re all on the same damned team for fuck’s sake.”

  


Sypha snorted derisively. “Hah. _He_ doesn’t seem to think so.”

  


Trevor turned to Adrian, his exasperation plainly visible. “Why are you behaving like this?”

  


Adrian felt the instinct to fight still pushing on him but he tempered it, forcing himself to lower his hand. He knew he was to blame for this argument. It was his fault for having so many doubts, so little confidence. She spoke before he could.

  


“He doesn’t think we are good enough to fight beside him. He doesn’t think he can rely on us.”

  


Trevor gave her an irritated glare. “Not helpful Sypha,” he turned back to Adrian. “Don’t you remember anything that we talked about last night? Are you soft in the damned head? I told you if you made me do this again I was going to throw you in the fucking lake. Now stand the fuck down. You already tried to defeat your father once and he kicked your ass. You went through an elaborate load of shit to find the best possible allies to try again, and we are who you got. I know you are scared to trust anyone because you’ve always done things alone. I get that. I’ve done pretty much everything by myself before now too. So trust me when I say I can see whats going on here. You are lashing out because you are scared and that is perfectly fucking understandable but it isn’t ok. That woman is the strongest person I have ever met and honestly I think she would give you a run for your money in a fight. She went into those catacombs alone and faced off with a fucking cyclops because she believed in you, in finding you and in saving Wallachia. She has more courage in her pinkie finger than most warriors. She believes in you. I believe in you. Adrian you need to cut the shit and stop this. Stop letting your fear and your doubts eat you alive and get between us. All of us are prepared to give our lives to defeat Dracula. All of us equally. None of us can do this without help. Not even you, no matter how strong you are.”

  


Adrian deflated, realizing how poorly he had conducted himself. “I know.”

  


Sypha put her hands on her hips, reluctant to simply give it up when she obviously was not convinced that he believed his own words. She watched him with skepticism.

  


Trevor stepped back, no longer in between them. “I’m going to take a piss,” he said, wandering into the nearby trees.

  


Adrian took a step closer to the cart. He reached out a hand to Sypha, wanting her to come down so he could face her. She stared at his outstretched glove for a moment before taking it, hopping off the box and landing in front of him. He took a step back, looking at her apologetically. How could he fix what he’d done? How could he prove to her he was sorry and admit that he _was_ in fact scared, and that it was affecting his better judgment?

  


He drew his sword in an instant, dropping to his knee and bowing his head, holding the blade horizontally in both hands before him. He laid the blade on the ground at her feet, “I have behaved terribly. I admit I am afraid that we will lose, that you will both die for this cause and that I will carry the guilt of your deaths forever. I have been a fool not to see how lucky I am to fight at your sides. I understand that its not only my cause, Sypha. I swear that I will never, ever doubt you again. You have my word.” Adrian stayed on his knee, his head down, his body still. He meant his words. He saw his error now – this meant as much to them as it did to him. They _all_ stood to lose everything if they failed. They were all in this together, equally.

  


“Adrian I – look out!”

  


Heeding her warning with no hesitation Adrian whirled, grabbing his sword in a flash and impaling the beast which had leapt from the trees, using their distraction to its advantage to mount an attack. He speared it through the mouth and out the back of its head, the jaws lined with rows of pointed teeth falling slack on his blade. Suddenly night creatures poured from the trees, closing in on them from all sides. They were caught off guard because of their foolish argument. He should have been more vigilant.

  


Adrian could hear Trevor’s whip on the other side of the cart, and the smell of demon blood was already intensifying. The horses panicked, stamping their hooves and rearing, trying to go in opposite directions. They took off into the trees, taking the cart and the lantern with them. Sypha immediately summoned fire to her fingertips, shooting a ball of flame into the mass of monsters to her left. They erupted into wails of pain, the scent of their charred flesh filling the air. The light from their burning forms illuminated the area, revealing Trevor backing towards Sypha, his short sword in his off hand, his whip flying at anything that came close. Adrian went after the cart, trying to protect the horses. They needed them alive. He floated above them, avoiding low branches and destroying anything that got too close with merciless precision. He was loath to admit it felt good to kill something. He had needed a fight. He fell into a calm state of focus, spearing one beast after another, occasionally taking one barehanded while he sent his sword flying at the others. There was vague satisfaction in sinking his claws into the undead flesh and ripping it apart, though their blood smelled incredibly foul. It stained his hands and clothes.

  


The band was not massive and they were able to dispatch them successfully, the corpses piling around their feet as they laid waste to the grotesque forms. Sypha was shooting shards of ice into their hearts, eyes and throats, taking out a great number of them with relative ease. Trevor dispatched any that she missed, his consecrated whip splitting their flesh, his sword driving into their bodies and leaving them still. Sypha finished the corpses with flame, ensuring they would not be able to revive.

  


When the forest fell silent again save the sounds of the terrified horses, Adrian floated back down to meet them, wiping the disgusting blackish blood from his long blade and sheathing it. He was on full alert, his eyes searching for any further movement in the trees, his ears straining to pick up anything he might have missed. He heard faint wing beats in the distance and rose up over the treeline to see three birdlike creatures already far out of reach, disappearing over a large hill that he could not see past. Damn, they had sent scouts, their location was not safe. Adrian did not want to leave his comrades and take a chance going after the three, it was unwise to split up. They would simply have to keep moving or alter their course.

  


He looked to Trevor and Sypha to ensure that they were alright. They were busy collecting the things which had spilled out of the cart when it took off. Adrian led the horses a few paces down the path, out of the way of the corpses. They whinnied fearfully, wanting to bolt. He tied them off to a nearby tree and returned to Trevor and Sypha’s sides.

  


“They know where we are, they sent messengers. I saw three going in that direction,” he pointed, “We have to keep moving. We cannot afford to stop.”

  


Trevor frowned grimly, picking one of his daggers from a corpse’s eye and wiping it clean before re-sheathing it. He had a splatter of the dark blood along his face, soaked into his hair and sprayed over the fur of the cloak. Sypha was less bloodied, but she had sustained some minor scratches on her wrist which were bleeding, the droplets running down her palm and dripping from her fingertips. The scent of her blood was drastically different from that of the undead creatures. Adrian was surprised at how good it smelled to him suddenly. He eyed the dripping digits for a long moment before turning his face away, swallowing.

  


“Sypha you are injured. You need to bandage that. They will be able to smell it and more easily track us.”

  


Adrian’s throat felt oddly dry. He sighed, that edge or irritation settling over him again now that the danger was past. They would have to try and make haste if they had any chance of evading the next wave of attacks. They would send more next time, now that they knew they were here. His human companions had been without rest for the day and now most of the night, and they had not stopped for a meal since the late afternoon. None of this was going smoothly and it was partly his fault. If he hadn’t been so ornery then he would have noticed the night creature’s approach and would never have allowed their scouts to get away. He set his teeth, steadfastly focusing on helping to reload the cart. Trevor was now soothing the horses, stroking their necks and talking softly to them. It helped, they were calming, the wildness clearing from their eyes.

  


Sypha had paused helping and was in the back of the wagon looking for something to bandage her wrist. She rifled through the bags, finally coming up with a strip of rough linen that seemed clean enough. She set it under her arm, trying to bring the strip around her wrist with one hand. She was not having much success. Adrian hopped into the wagon beside her and knelt down, taking the two ends of the cloth and assisting her. The cuts were mostly superficial, but one of them was bleeding a fair bit. She stared at him oddly and he realized that he was splattered with blood, his ungloved hands darkened with it. He tried to wipe them clean on his breeches before touching her.

  


“This one is deep,” he pointed at the worst slash, “You need to elevate your arm above your heart and put pressure on it to help stop the bleeding,” he advised, setting her arm on top of some of their belongings so it was elevated as he described. She nodded and watched him take the two ends of cloth once more into his fingers so he could wrap the injury. The smell was so strong, he was having a hard time not staring at the cut, at the way it oozed slightly with each beat of her heart.

  


He finished wrapping the wound and they finally resumed their journey, the mood decidedly less cheerful than it had been earlier. He knew they were all getting tired. Sypha stayed in the back of the wagon, keeping her arm up and watching the trail behind them warily. The scent of her blood was all over, and Adrian felt like they had a bright light advertising their location to anything around that might be hunting them. He was not ignorant to the fact that he and Trevor were also filthy and reeked of demon. It didn’t matter. They had to continue and make as much ground as they could before daybreak. When the sun rose they could rest. That was still several hours away. He was warring with his own increasing sense of general irritation, and his knew his patience was thinning. Beside him on the bench seat Trevor had the reins. The man stared forward without expression, focused on the trail and on sensing possible danger. He hadn’t even reached for his flask since the ambush – morale was low.

  


After another hour of bumping and creaking along the trail Adrian realized that Sypha had fallen asleep in the back of the wagon. That was good, she was hurt and perhaps if she slept a little now she could take over in awhile. He stared, preoccupied, at the bloodied strip on her wrist. The bleeding had finally stopped and it was drying into a dark brown crust on the fabric. Trevor looked over to him with a frown.

  


“What?” he snapped shortly.

  


“You’re awfully cranky,” Trevor answered, eyes flicking back to the trail.

  


Well of course he was cranky, everything was going terribly, he’d argued with Sypha, and they had several days journey ahead of them leading to a destination that was little more than hopeful shot in the dark. He glowered in response. “It hasn’t exactly been a pleasant night.”

  


Trevor chuckled dryly. “No shit, we’re all tired and hungry.”

  


“Yes, we are,” Adrian agreed, silence settling once more. His stomach gurgled loudly. Trevor raised an eyebrow at him.

  


“You know if you need to, you know… get a snack...” he trailed off as though the meaning of his words were obvious.

  


Even the damned hunter could tell he was hungry and growing more irascible by the hour. “I’m fine. There isn’t time for that right now. We need to get as far as we can.”

  


Trevor nodded, “That’s true,” he answered and let the silence fall between them once more.

  


Another hour saw the sky finally beginning to lighten in the East, barely visible through the thick trees. They were mostly pines and cedars now, many of them standing dead in clumps where water had killed them off. The earth was soft here, the horses’ hooves sinking into it and making the going harder. Trevor’s head was tipping forward, his hands slack on the reins until he caught himself and jerked awake, straightening. Sypha was watching the road again, the bumping keeping her from sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. They emerged onto a swamp, the path curving around it for many miles. The cart was sinking to one side. This was not a good place to stop. They could either go back a few miles to higher ground or venture forward and push the horses to cover a bit more distance before they rested. It would be hard on them, but they didn’t have much choice. Adrian resigned that they might have to lead the horses on foot and leave the cart if the path degraded much more.

  


“I’ll walk for now, Trevor let Sypha drive and walk with me. Lets try to clear this swamp before we stop.”

  


Trevor groaned in resignation, but he turned to Sypha and she climbed forward, taking the reins and he and Adrian hopped down. “I remember this place, the road sometimes washes away in the spring. This time of year it’s usually ok. I guess we can thank all that rain for the muddy conditions. Its a pretty large stretch but the path is higher in a few miles. Lets get moving, I’m tired as all shit.” With that he strode forward, picking up his pace and forcing himself to keep moving despite his exhaustion. Adrian stepped lightly and led the way, peering as far as he could around each bend in hopes that the muddy slog would soon be over.

  


It took the better part of an hour and a half to get through to the higher part of the path. The sun had fully risen and a swarm of buzzing insects were circling their heads. The horses were tired, they were tossing their heads and protesting Sypha’s repeated urging for them to keep on. Finally the ground hardened and leveled out. The path led away from the swamp, curving sharply and leading into deciduous forest once more. Adrian could hear running water and darted ahead, unable to wait and be disappointed at the next turn. When he rounded the bend he was greeted with a sight for sore eyes. There was a small clearing that eased onto the bank of a stream which likely fed into the swamp behind them. Sunbeams broke through the trees and fresh grass grew in thick clumps. The stream was deep and cold and ran clear, the bottom all small rounded pebbles. He felt his whole body relax, thankful that they could stop for awhile. He looked around, making sure that it was in fact deserted, and he returned to his companions with the first smile any of them had worn the whole night.

  


“There is a good spot to rest ahead,” he announced gratefully. He was met with two tired smiles.

  


They made short work of hobbling the horses on long leads so they could graze, and filled their skins with fresh water. Trevor and Sypha drank deeply. Trevor took off his cloak to try and clean off the monster blood with reasonable success. He splashed his face and hair, washing them free of the dark stains. He no longer looked like he had just brutally hacked something to death. Adrian took full advantage of this opportunity as well, finally washing his hands and carefully rinsing his trench clean of the blood and mud. He hung it over a tree to dry in the sun.

  


They were too tired to cook anything, so they ate a cold meal of bread with cheese and apples. After they had something in their bellies Trevor announced that he was dead tired and couldn’t stay awake anymore. He laid down in the cart and was snoring in minutes. Sypha was obviously not far behind him, and Adrian was also feeling the pull of exhaustion. He yawned wide, meeting her sleepy gaze. She stared hard at him and closed the space between them, taking his hand in hers. She leaned up on her toes and pulled him into a kiss. When they broke apart she rested her head on his chest, over his heart.

  


Adrian blinked down at her warm figure in his arms. He rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes, squeezing her in a tight hug. It seemed like she had accepted his apology. He felt better too. He had fewer doubts now. He had sworn to never doubt her again. He meant it. He always kept his word.

  


They climbed into the bed of the wagon with Trevor and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	7. Part Seven

**Part Seven**

Adrian took some time to hunt the following afternoon. He excused himself from the others and slipped into the trees, doubling back on the scent of animals which had passed along the trail not long before. Daytime was not ideal for this activity, but at present it was the only option and he did not want to spend the next leg of the journey steadfastly ignoring the gnawing hunger which was making him short tempered and apparently quite cranky. Just because he did not need blood in the desperate way a full vampire did, did not mean he could forgo it entirely without consequence. He did not enjoy the distraction that his friend’s small or superficial injuries created when he denied himself. He would never harm them, even at the point of complete starvation, but he recognized that if he was going to spend all his time intimately close to humans then it would be more comfortable if he dulled the predatory edge a little.

He had long since learned to accept the bitter taste of animal blood as one of the facts of life. His choice not to feed from humans was a personal one which he had made many years ago, much to his father’s chagrin. He was deeply disturbed by killing or even hurting a person for blood. Before he knew he had a choice he had done what was considered normal by the other vampires, but he refused to do it any longer once he made up his mind that it was horrible and wrong. His needs had never been the same as the others anyhow; he derived no pleasure from hurting some poor terrified soul and he only consumed blood infrequently unless he was badly injured. He had easily transitioned to feeding from animals to satisfy his minor appetite. Usually he ate normal food and that was quite thoroughly satisfying.

Hunting, however, was still pleasurable. Tracking deer, pigs, or large predators like cats was a challenge, as these creatures spent all of their time sneaking around in the bush and were far warier than humans. Sometimes he hunted in his wolf form, sometimes not. He did typically delight in a good pursuit – the hunt was absolutely part of the experience. For the moment he knew he needed to simply get this done and return to his friends before evening, so he forewent any chase and simply closed in on the first suitable prey he tracked down. In this case it was a stag, which he brought down easily with a strike to the side of the head. When the animal was incapacitated he sank his fangs into the unpleasantly furry neck and finally satiated the hunger which had been gnawing at him for days. He drank his fill, taking a few minutes to simply appreciate the extreme warmth that tingled through him and the sense of laziness that accompanied a full belly. He was careful not to make a mess of himself, but he did remove one hind leg and thigh so he could bring it back to Trevor and Sypha for their meal. This was a large animal and there was a great deal of perfectly good meat wasted by feeding only on the blood. It would not do to leave so much unused then take more time hunting smaller game like rabbits. He quickly buried the remainder of the kill in a shallow mound of dirt and brush to avoid leaving too much evidence behind for potential enemies to track them by.

He returned to their camp, emerging from the thick trees into the clearing they had spent the morning resting in. Sypha was preparing the wagon, getting the horses properly harnessed and stroking their soft noses when he emerged. Trevor looked up from his spot lounging in front of the fire, eyes falling to the large haunch he carried by the ankle. The hunter perked up at the sight of the meat. He was quickly at the ready with a knife to cut the large piece into strips which he set to the fire. Within minutes Trevor was trying to pick the half cooked venison up with his fingertips, wincing as he burned them. Adrian smirked at him.

“Are you so eager that you can’t wait until its cooked?”

Trevor grinned guiltily, sucking his burned digit to soothe it. “You’re damn right. I’m so sick of fucking apples and stale bread. The only thing that would make this better would be some beer.”

Adrian wrinkled his nose, remembering how he had overindulged a few days ago. It was the last thing he would want to do again any time soon. “I don’t know how you can enjoy that stuff, it tastes like poison.”

“Oh its not for the taste, though it does grow on you after awhile.” As an afterthought Trevor reached for his flask, but he was dismayed to find it empty. He re-corked it with a sigh and stuffed a mostly cooked strip of venison into his mouth, chewing loudly. “Hope there’s some booze in the Hold, maybe I’ll get lucky and find some old wine or something.”

Adrian smirked at that, watching the way Sypha slipped each of the horses some oats, whispering to them that they were good boys and that they had done a great job last night. He turned back to Trevor with an arched brow. “Were all of the Belmonts alcoholics, or just you?”

“Oh shut up.”

Sypha joined them at the edge of the fire, sitting beside Adrian and thanking him for getting them such a large and filling meal before they set off again. She had been sweet to him all day, which had started with them all waking tangled together in the wagon, Trevor crushing them both as he stretched out in sleep and took up most of the space. Sypha had roused him by raking her fingers through his hair and peppering kisses over his cheeks and nose. If it hadn’t been for the glaring sun cooking him relentlessly and Trevor’s knee digging into his back it would have been the perfect way to wake up. He suspected Sypha was feeling a touch guilty about giving him such a hard time the night before, but she hadn’t brought it up and he didn’t want either. They were all in better spirits after the rest, and with the addition of a hot, fresh meal they would be in good shape to get on with their travels by nightfall.

An easiness descended over them as they ate. Sypha talked about some of good the times traveling with her family while the meat slowly disappeared. Adrian only picked at a small piece as he was still quite full. His companions noticed but they didn’t comment on it. He appreciated the discretion, the last thing he wanted to discuss with them were the particulars of his meal. They put out the fire and washed up in the stream, and they were on the road well before the sun set. They hoped to make good time and avoid another unpleasant and exhausting night like the one past.

Adrian stayed in the back of the wagon until it was dark. He hated the feeling of the sun touching him. He never got use to it, even after living diurnally for parts of his life. It made him want to shrink back and squeeze his eyes shut against the searing brightness, evade the direct beams, or pull his clothing around him in protection. He also could not use certain abilities in the sunlight, including his animals forms. His instinct was to stay away from it altogether but he tried very hard not to show that it bothered him.

They plodded along at a decent pace now that the road was high and dry and the sun set a little while after they began. They were not attacked through the night, for which everyone was thankful. The air was mild and still, although it was quite humid under the trees, and the mosquitoes were a constant annoyance. The horses’ ears were twitching and their tails swished the insects away. It was the smoothest and easiest leg of their journey and they were relaxing somewhat, especially Trevor who began to recognize landmarks as they came closer to the edge of the thick forest. It turned out that they made better time than they expected, and they arrived in Belmont territory a few hours before dawn. The hunter pointed out a copse of trees he’d enjoyed playing in as a child, and for nearly the first time since Adrian had met him he saw a different side of Trevor, a happier and more relaxed attitude which he rarely revealed. His normal cynicism was such a prominent component of his personality that it was a bit strange to see him smile so openly and to hear him talk about playing house or pirates with his cousins and brothers. It was clear that he was excited to return to his family home. The forest eventually thinned out and there were stone pillars on the sides of the path every few hundred feet, marking the last leg of road leading up to the Belmont lands.

While Adrian was happy for him and pleased at his good mood, he did not share it. He was developing an increasingly unpleasant sense of foreboding. He grew quiet and introspective as they drew closer to the Hold.

Despite Trevor’s nostalgia, Adrian was not generally a fan of the Belmonts. They were his own family’s greatest enemy going back many generations. He had grown up to horror stories of them raiding the castle and killing vampires indiscriminately simply for sport. They were, in his opinion, often bloodthirsty for its own sake, and enjoyed killing even when their victims had done nothing but exist. He really didn’t care to hear more stories about them. They seemed a bit crazy to him by the description of their hoard of anti-vampire paraphernalia. He suspected that Trevor had an inflated view of their goodness, he noticed how he avoided admitting that they had in fact practiced the black arts for which they had been excommunicated. Adrian had to bite his tongue repeatedly when the urge to make snide remarks about the family arose. He was not thrilled to be heading into the territory of an entire family dedicated to eradicating his species. Trevor didn’t seem to notice.

“This isn’t the first time that I’ve come back here,” he explained as the horses followed the path which was now cobbled in stones which had long since grown thick with weeds and sunk in some places. “Its been five or six years since I’ve seen it. I went back once before – to see what was left. I found a few things that hadn’t been destroyed, and I stuck around for a few weeks and tried to salvage part of the house, but it was just too ruined. One of the towers was not burned, but everything else has long since been wrecked. Vandals came in and destroyed whatever the church didn’t bring down when they forced us out. I was lucky to get into some old chests that were well hidden. That’s where I got this tunic,” he gestured to his shirt, which was embroidered with his family crest, “And this,” he indicated the leather piece that covered his upper back and chest, also bearing his family’s markings. “Unfortunately there wasn’t much else left and being here was fucking depressing. I left and went back on the road. I haven’t been back since.”

Sypha smoothed a comforting hand over Trevor’s back and Adrian just stared out the back of the wagon, keeping an eye on the forest behind them. Every instinct in his body was telling him something was wrong. Maybe it was just the place itself.

The wagon drew past a large open space to one side of the road. The earth was mounded and blackened, nothing growing over the area despite years of abandonment. The sense of wrongness intensified as they passed it. Several rotted wooden pikes were poking up from the earth all around the clearing and on the other side of the road from it. Most of them were tipped over and withered with the passage of time. He could see bits of white bone poking up from the mound and cracked skulls hanging from some of the sticks. He lowered his gaze, considering the floor of the wagon. He knew full well what they were. He could see the fangs on the more intact skulls as plain as anything.

“What is that?” Sypha asked, pointing to the empty area of darkened earth.

“Oh that’s where they executed the vampires and night creatures that were captured or held prisoner. Sometimes we would need to keep them alive to question them, or they would be captured during attempts to attack the house. Any that were still alive would be shackled in spelled chains to prevent their escape and that’s where they would behead and burn them. One of my uncles was really into mounting the heads on those pikes. I remember coming back from playing in the woods one time and the whole thing was full of burnt remains, a bunch of heads all shriveled and smoking, the hair burnt off. It fucking reeked.” Trevor made a disgusted face, evidently remembering the smell. Adrian tried to hold back a derisive snort. It sounded to him like someone had just enjoyed torturing and killing things.

“That’s horrible,” Sypha said, removing her hand from his back and glancing at Adrian. She seemed to understand that it might make him uncomfortable to observe such a place. It certainly appeared to rattle her. “There is a lot of magical energy here. It feels strange.”

Trevor scoffed. “Syph they were fucking _vampires_. You have seen what they will do given half a chance to roam free. We’ve been fighting the horde all these months. What do you think is responsible for creating those night creatures? Vampires,” he spit the word, like it tasted bad in his mouth. “My family was the only thing left to protect people from them but the church is so delusional they thought _we_ were the problem. So many Belmonts died to protect the useless fucking church and they turned on us at the slightest suggestion that our methods were a little… unorthodox. Black magic? Bullshit. I never saw any black magic. We were just doing what had to be done. Those fuckers are a plague.”

Sypha looked dismayed, her shoulders drooping as she looked back at the darkened clearing with a sad expression.

Adrian’s lip curled in a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The night creatures are not created by vampires, they occur naturally and breed like other animals would. The ones we are battling, the horde army, they are created by _humans_. Not by vampires. Only _humans_ have spawned forge masters who can reanimate the dead. Father must have a forge master under his command to be producing so many of them. Furthermore, the vampire population is quite limited, only a small percentage compared to the number of humans, and they are not typically so senselessly violent. I won’t say they are not responsible for human deaths, I know there are some individuals who have no respect for life and do indeed kill many innocents, but before my father went insane it was nothing like what we are seeing now.”

Tension sizzled electrically between the two men, each glaring at the other with thinly veiled contempt. Sypha inched away from Trevor on the bench, her eyes darting between him and Adrian.

“Not typically violent? That’s horse shit. If that were the case then my family would not have spent hundreds of years following vampires around Wallachia, stopping them from killing innocent people and raiding their villages. I think Daddy Dracula must have been telling some tall fucking tales because I’ve seen what vampires will do if given half a chance. They kill people. I had a sword and a whip in my hand from the time I was a child, and before my family were excommunicated I was already hunting with them. I’ve killed plenty of vampires and none were sent by Dracula. They were just bloodthirsty assholes who wanted to kill because that’s what they like to do.”

Adrian glared at Trevor, his hands balling into fists as he forced himself to swallow back his retort. Coming here had been a terrible idea. The events that transpired when they were at the inn seemed a lifetime away. This man who had professed to believe in him and to think so much of him only days before was now openly bragging about killing his people. A niggling voice at the back of his mind reminded him that he himself had not fit in terribly well with those same people, because he was offended by their bloodthirsty nature. That seemed somehow unimportant when Trevor was right in front of him, calling them a plague.

Sypha had been watching the exchange quietly, but she interjected before Adrian could say anything in retort to Trevor’s words. “Stop arguing! Trevor I know this is your home and it is hard to see it destroyed, but that is not Adrian’s fault. He’s on our side. He is here to stop Dracula and the horde, just like we are. Remember that none of us can do this alone. We _just_ talked about this. Now both of you stop acting like idiots. We’re here.”

All three of them turned as the wagon broke through the last copse of tree cover and the ruined house rose before them. The Belmont Estate had once been a rich and fine house, a castle, really. It was made of massive cut stones and its towers had risen to great heights. Only one of them remained, the largest square tower near the front of the sprawling estate. It was damaged, the roof caved in at the top, and a few holes in the sides, but it still stood, a shadow of its former glory. The others were all crumbling and most of them had been toppled over. Complicated stone archways and other architectural features had been lost to the destructive forces of the church and further withered by time and the elements. Discarded furniture and rotted tapestries littered the rubble, the main body of the house little more than crumbled ruins by this point. A few of the walls still stood and Adrian could see the remnants of fine glass panes which had once been the windows of a great room. It was hauntingly beautiful and sad, and even Adrian had to admit it was hard to see such a great structure intentionally destroyed for the sake of religious ideals.

The wagon was not able to traverse the stone path which led up to the main entrance so they secured the horses and picked their way between the scattered boulders and debris, all eyes watchful for anything out of place. The path had sunken in some places, forcing them to climb or jump across to the next traversable portion. The entire place was dead silent save the wind moaning through the holes in the last remaining tower. Adrian’s hand was at the hilt of his sword, his nerves on edge with the sense of danger. It appeared deserted, as though nobody had been here for many years. There was nothing to confirm that Adrian’s apprehension could be attributed to anything more than his own discomfort at being in this place.

“I don’t see how anything here is going to help us isolate my father’s castle,” Adrian said finally, after they had picked their way down crumbled stairs into the main area of the house. It was obviously just an old dilapidated pile of rocks.

Trevor shook his head, running his hand over the edge of an old tapestry which had not entirely decomposed. “I told you before, its not the house that we are here for, its whats underneath. There is an entrance, but everything looks different now, I can’t remember where it is. Just let me look around, its here somewhere.” He went back to pacing the various skeletons of rooms and halls, evidently looking for something specific. Finally he came upon a massive block of brassy metal which was mostly buried beneath several large sections of a crumbled wall. It was covered in strange symbols and runes, and looked a little out of place. It appeared to be at least eight inches thick, perhaps eight by eight feet square. It was conspicuously undamaged by time or by the mass of weight which had fallen upon it.

“That’s it,” Trevor said, indicating the block and moving to inspect it.

It took them some time to clear it off, Adrian doing most of the heavy lifting himself because he was the only one capable of moving the boulders without mechanical assistance. When they finally stood before the door and Adrian attempted to move it they quickly realized that it was spelled shut. Sypha took some time peering over the runes and sigils, eventually understanding how to operate the door. While she worked Adrian and Trevor steadfastly ignored one another. Trevor was fascinated by the doorway, and was talking about how he had passed through it as a child, but Adrian was hardly listening. The bronze block gave him the worst sense of unease yet, it literally made his skin crawl. He didn’t even want to go near it.

There was a blinding flash as Sypha chanted the correct words and the huge block slid back from the aperture beneath. The doorway was finally passable. All three of them stared into the darkness beyond. A stone staircase led downwards, winding into the black. From the scent and the movement of air Adrian could tell that it led deep into the Earth, and he could smell books, the telltale dusty, slightly mouldering scent tickling his nose. Nothing had opened this doorway for many years, he could tell that much from the scent alone. Trevor was eager to enter. He grabbed one of the torches and started down the stairs, the light bouncing off of the thick stone walls and casting long shadows behind him. His boots echoed strangely in the passage, more confirmation that whatever lay beyond the entrance was a huge space. Adrian watched him go, Sypha moving to follow. Adrian couldn’t seem to bring himself to step past the threshold.

“I will stay here and keep watch in case anything comes after us. Its no coincidence that the horde has not reappeared after a few nights ago. They must be waiting for something. Maybe they are waiting for this, for us to go down there and be cornered inside.” That seemed most reasonable to him. There was not likely to be danger within, but with nobody watching from above they could easily be ambushed or even trapped.

Trevor had disappeared into the darkness but he turned back, climbing the stairs and emerging from the entrance. The torch crackled, the light glinting in his eyes. He gave Adrian a skeptical look. “This is the safest place we can be. They wouldn’t dare come in here, and nothing can move the door back in place without studying the spell first. We cannot be trapped inside. The Hold is the _last_ place the horde would try to go anyway. Since when are you so worried about a few monsters?”

Adrian stared at Trevor evenly. He had no logical explanation for his apprehension. What was he to say, that he had a bad feeling? That his instincts were screaming at him that this place was dangerous? He sighed to himself and straightened, stepping forward into the opening in the floor. He followed Sypha, who was following Trevor down the long passage. The first stairs opened into a large cylindrical room which had more stairs winding downwards. It was completely silent within the hold, except the slight movement of air whooshing upwards and the echoing of their footfalls bouncing off the walls. The entrance soon disappeared from sight and they came into a massive wooden and iron door.

“This is it,” Trevor said, his eyes bright as he grabbed the handle and opened the thick door slowly, the hinges groaning with years of neglect. It opened onto the underground cavern, the ceiling rising beyond view and the bottom many floors below.

It was incredible. It was perfectly preserved, barely anything damaged by the many years it had been sitting untouched. Trevor was practically giddy with pleasure at everything being preserved and still there. Sypha was equally amazed, and even Adrian was impressed by the architecture and the collected centuries of books, weapons and preserved specimens that he could see from the doorway. Despite that, the place itself was horrible to be in for Adrian. He didn’t want to descend further than he already had. He was just outside the wood and iron door still, watching Sypha and Trevor walk further in. Sypha lit the lanterns with a fire spell, washing the whole space in a glow of flame and illuminating all the details that had been shrouded in shadow. The massive space was absolutely packed with books, shelves upon shelves of collected works representing centuries of knowledge, and many displays containing all manner of macabre and supernatural items or preserved specimens. Adrian’s eye was drawn especially to one cabinet several floors down. He did not need to get closer to see that it contained many gleaming white skulls, each with a pair of fangs indicating that they had all belonged to vampires. What was most disturbing was that some of them had obviously been children, as denoted by the size of the eye holes and the small teeth. He felt a wave of disgust, trying to understand why the Belmonts had deemed it necessary to slaughter children and put their remains on display like trophies.

“Wow, Trevor this collection is amazing!” Sypha beamed, her eyes wide with amazement at the rows and rows of books that had been locked away for decades. Trevor began to tell more of the history of the hold itself, of its construction and development by his ancestors. They were already following yet more stairs to the next floor, moving towards a specific book which was apparently an index of all of the other materials stored in the library. Adrian warred with himself, and finally resigned that he would need to set aside his worries and join them. He stepped lower, onto the first landing within the main cavern.

When his feet touched the floor of the landing a number of runic symbols hidden within the decorative designs lit up with a magical blue glow. They paralyzed him immediately and effectively, trapping him where he was standing. He was unable to speak, unable to move. He was frozen in place and he felt his strength sapping out of him, weakness quickly seeping through his entire body. He tried to say something but only a strangled gurgle escaped him. It was enough to alert his friends but it was already too late.

Trevor and Sypha turned and stared in horror, both of them bolting up the stairs, too slow to do anything but watch. Suddenly several projectiles were ejected from all directions, converging on the place occupied by Adrian’s form. Horrible pain flared through every part of him as he was impaled repeatedly, ten long wooden spears striking him and sinking deep into his body. They missed his heart, but his other organs were punctured swiftly, a few going into his limbs, still more tearing through his abdomen with enough brutal force that they poked out the other side. The worst one impaled one side of his neck, sending a torrent of blood spraying around him, coating the floor in a wide semicircle. He could not move, the magical symbols were still active and they were freezing his body, stopping all attempts to free himself. He appeared to simply stand there but in reality he was using everything he had, trying in vain to make his body respond. He could not so much as blink or turn his head. Blood began to seep from his eyes so hard did he strain to free himself. His lungs were damaged, punctured in multiple locations. He experienced the sensation of drowning as his own blood filled them. It leaked from his nose and mouth and he sagged, somehow still conscious but the world fading before his eyes. He tried to breathe and could not get any oxygen for the blood that was rapidly filling his throat and lungs. He could see Trevor running towards him, but he could do nothing to help himself. It seemed as though Trevor was saying something, yelling, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rush of pain and blood. The pain was increased many times over as a sensation like fire began to radiate out from each of the stakes, they were tipped with some kind of poison, something that made his blood feel like acid was coursing through his veins.

Adrian had never been so mortally wounded except by the battle with his father. That had been one terrible deep wound, not so many lesser ones. The pain was unimaginable, it was absolutely greater than that other terrible injury. He had never experienced anything like it before. The poison was almost worse than the spears. He was screaming, even though he could not move or speak, even though he was drowning in his own blood, he was screaming in his own mind.

As if the anti-vampire measures were not enough on their own, this chamber of apparent horrors had one more pleasure in store for him. A cage descended from the ceiling and dropped down over his body, a large rectangle made of thick metal bars covered in more magical symbols. He was vaguely aware that he was released from his immobility when it closed over him, the runes on the floor dimming back to their normal state. He screamed in agony, suddenly able to move once more but the symbols having a horrific effect of their own. Wherever his body neared or touched the bars the markings lit up with magic and actively sapped his strength, rendering him feeble and helpless. They lowered his energy until he was so weak, so frail that he trembled with the effort needed to move to the center of the cage in attempt to relieve the sensation. He could not feel his legs at all and they did not respond to his attempts to move. He was only able to flop marginally closer to the center of the cage like a landed fish. He was barely able to see straight at this point, but he did see Sypha and Trevor as bleary figures outside of the cage, their mouths working at they tried to communicate with him, their faces contorted in horror.

The poison’s effect was still escalating, his blood feeling like liquid fire that burned from the inside out. Well, what little blood remained in his body anyhow. Much of it seemed to be sprayed all over the floor, the horrible wound at his throat having lacerated some major vessel. He didn’t really understand how he was still conscious. He screamed again, trying to claw at himself in vain effort to relieve the pain, but it was useless. There was nothing he could do but wait until the poison was processed by his body or he died.

He was unable to register the panicked voices of his friends outside of the cage. Overwhelmed by the agony and the lack of oxygen and blood, Adrian’s consciousness faded. He sagged into a still heap in the center of the cage, the spears sticking out all over him like a gruesome pincushion.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	8. Part Eight

**Part Eight**

Pain. Everything was pain. The pain was colour, it was sound, it was God. Pain had so many layers, so many facets, it was a glittering, twisting thing that dominated everything else, it was life. It was death, it was blood, it was a ripping, sickening sensation that had evolved beyond simple nerve impulses and sensation. It was alive. It was tangible, sentient, cruel.

Adrian existed outside of himself for an unknown period of time. He knew himself, he knew he was Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes and Lisa Fahrenheit Tepes, he knew that he was a man, that he had once had a body, that he had once known something more than this. Now all he knew was the pain – the throbbing horror that was a constant companion in the otherwise featureless existence he could not perceive in any specific way. He drifted in a helpless paralysis beyond his comprehension, the endless pain the only thing he knew.

Gradually there was more than just pain. There was fire, burning, the pain was more than only itself now, it was also heat. A heat so great he imagined he must be in Hell, that he must be dead and that he was somewhere beyond the Earthly plane, somewhere that was so hot that his own skin would burn itself if he still had a body. He thought the fire and pain must be his soul roasting, cooking until it blistered and split open cruelly, exposing him to the searing flames and evaporating him like so much steam.

But he didn’t evaporate. He didn’t disappear, the pain and heat only intensified, and slowly they were joined by a rhythm, a continuous pounding beat which he eventually recognized as his own heart. Each beat brought a fresh and renewed wave of fire, which in turn was the source of the pain. It was his blood. It was boiling, it was burning him from inside his own body, it was singeing his veins as it circulated through him, relentlessly destroying him and then beginning again as his body regenerated slightly and his heart kept pumping the horrible fire through it, over and over, an agonizing and torturous prison in which he was trapped without respite.

It took a long time at this level of suffering for him to move on to being somewhat aware of his own physical self. He could not understand the complex mixture of sensations which were all different variations of pain or burning. He clung to the rhythm of his own heart and eventually some higher awareness started to blur the edges, different kinds of pain, discomfort, starvation, exhaustion, and screaming. The screaming was his next awareness. He did not recognize it as his own, and indeed from the outside he did not appear to be screaming, as his throat was speared through and his vocal chords had been damaged, but some sort of screaming noise was still coming from him, a tortured and rasping sound that was broken by the burbling of blood in his lungs and the damage to his larynx. Within the prison of his body the screaming was his first connection or awareness of the world beyond. He was able to hear himself making a horrifying sound, and it interrupted and overshadowed the beating of his heart. Slowly, Adrian started to waken, intermittently screaming and struggling to breathe around the blood that was drowning him.

He was not ready to open his eyes yet. In fact he was not sure he could manage it, as he had no real awareness of the different parts of his own body; only the more intense pain or less intense pain. But he _could_ hear himself, and at some point he forced himself to stop and try to listen to the other noises around him, try to understand where he was and what was happening. He laid in silence, the fire circulating through him endlessly, his heartbeat a din that drowned out most other things.

“Adrian can you hear me?”

“Adrian? He stopped screaming, is he dying? Is he waking up?”

“I don’t know. Adrian? Alucard! Damnit you fucking asshole say something!”

What were those noises? His name… his two names… someone was talking to him. It was so hard to understand the other words, but he understood his name. He tried to make a noise, but he wasn’t sure if it meant anything or if it was really spoken out loud.

“I think he’s trying to talk. Adrian can you hear us? Don’t try to move, just say something if you can hear us.”

It was going so fast, the voice was saying so many things. It was a jumble to his tortured mind, but he could hear concern in the tone. He tried again to make some kind of noise, a word, something. He could hear himself now, through the throbbing burning pain, if he listened very carefully. He could hear a rasping noise that he thought must be coming from himself.

“Nnngg… hhh,” his attempts at speech were not exactly what he wanted, but it was something.

“Adrian. We can hear you. We’re here.” A familiar voice, he was sure he knew it.

“Hhnng… hheell… h-help,” he exerted great effort to make his mouth work, but as he did he was sensing more, he was becoming more aware of his own body, of the feeling of his tongue in his mouth, his mouth which tasted of coppery blood and felt so dry he could hardly move his tongue, but he managed that one word. As he spoke he found he was also better able to process the sounds around him, to understand the voices beside him. It was two people. Male and female. People he knew and trusted. It was Trevor and Sypha. He wasn’t alone, he wasn’t dead or in Hell or wherever that place of fire and pain had been, he was with them. In the Belmont Hold. He had been caught in an anti-vampire trap, impaled by wooden spears and poisoned. He was trapped in a cage which was spelled with some kind of vampire repelling magic. This wave of realization was physically painful and he shuddered bodily, then screamed in agony as all of the spears staking him were jostled at once. The scream was still that horrible rasping, bubbling noise from his nightmarish experience. It almost sent him back there, his consciousness faded for a moment, but he grabbed onto the sounds he recognized because he was terrified to go back to that horrible bodiless place.

“P-please...” he didn’t know what he was asking for, but he was begging for anything that would stop the pain. His voice was mangled and unfamiliar, the words barely coherent.

Then Sypha’s voice was there, soothing, her beautiful accent a comfort, he could almost see her just from her voice. “Adrian you are badly injured. We know it hurts, but we can’t get to you. Can you open your eyes? Can you look at me Adrian?” she sounded scared.

Adrian tried to think about how to open his eyes, everything was so slow, his thoughts were like lead, his body seemed far away. He tried to swallow, then thought better of it, the pain in his throat still horrible and the stake preventing him from swallowing anyhow. Eyes. She wanted him to open his eyes. He blinked, his eyes were sealed shut, he tried to open them but there was something stopping them.

“Ca-can’t,” he whispered, growing tired already from the strain.

“I want to help you, I think the blood dried over them and they are crusted shut. I’m going to use some magic to drip some water. Its going to be cold.”

Adrian just laid there, unable to do anything but wait. He could sense some light through his eyelids, and he was able to sense a bright flare which he assumed was her magic. In another moment there was water dripping over him, over his face, its coolness an unexpected momentary balm on his burning skin. He moaned in relief, a tremble running through him that made everything hurt again. He was crying now, though he didn’t know why. It was perhaps from the relief that they were with him, and at the momentary sensation of something other than pain. The water she dripped loosened the scabbed blood and the tears he was producing helped from within. Finally he was able to open his eyes. He squinted through his tears in the dim light, his friends a blurry shape outside of the bars of the cage.

He blinked repeatedly, the world coming into focus. He was laying in an odd position. He thought his legs were crumpled beneath him and he was partly on his side, partly on his back, wooden stakes protruding from his body as though he had been repeatedly skewered. He could not feel his legs at the moment. One of the spears must have damaged his spinal cord. They were long, each of them around five feet long, so that his body was not actually laying on the floor, but was propped up and hung on the wooden spears which had entered him from behind or had poked through his body to the other side. His head hung back, so he was looking at Trevor and Sypha upside down. He could not move, he didn’t dare try just yet. He dared only to move his eyes, searching around himself to better understand his prison. The metal cage was constructed of iron bars which were square, each almost two inches thick. The space between them was wide enough for an arm to reach through. The cage itself was fairly large, at least eight feet across, and of course the bars themselves were covered in spelled runes. He remembered the horrible sensation of helplessness that overtook him when he had neared the bars initially and was thankful that he had managed to somehow make it to the middle of the cage before passing out.

“How l-long...” he asked finally. He was weakening, everything was getting harder, farther away. It was like trying to swim though syrup. He didn’t want to pass out again yet but he didn’t think he had much choice.

Trevor frowned, his hands curling around the bars. “You’ve been unconscious for two days. The screaming started this morning, a few hours ago. We knew it meant you were waking up. We’re safe here, we went back outside, we hid the wagon and the horses and brought all our provisions in here. We got extra water and food, then Sypha sealed the door again. You were right, the horde is looking for us, but they cant get inside. We are safe as long as we stay in here. We have time. Time to find a way to open the cage and to help you. We were scared to try much before you woke up, but Sypha has been going through the books, she’s been looking for a way to open the cage. Adrian I didn’t know… I didn’t know about the trap. We went over everything else here, we looked for other traps. We don’t think there are any others. Adrian I’m so sorry.” Trevor stared at him, his eyes full of pain and guilt, but Adrian was having a hard time following his speech; it was going faster than he could process. He struggled to understand all the words, his eyes rolling as he briefly wavered between consciousness and blackness. He was terrified to go back to the swirling fiery pain that he had been experiencing for the past days. He didn’t want to pass out yet.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, he was exhausted already, but he managed to look at Trevor, and he wished he could communicate his mix of feelings but it was all simply too much for the moment. Sypha was beside him, her face pinched with the same fear and worry. Trevor’s voice began again, slower this time, as though he realized that he needed to only say a little at a time. “Adrian, we need to try and remove some of the stakes, so your body can heal. I can reach them through the bars. Its going to hurt. If I don’t do it now its only going to get harder, as you get weaker. They are poisoned, we realized that because everywhere they are touching is turning black. We have to get them out.”

Trevor stared at him hard, his expression intense and serious as he waited for that to sink in. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, the idea of even more pain was terrifying. He stared back, slowly understanding that he had no choice. Maybe it would get better after, maybe the burning would stop if they removed them.

“C-cage… hur-hurts...” he rasped, looking at the runes on the bars in fear. If they pulled him within their reach by the stakes, then the spell on the bars would activate again.

Sypha nodded sadly. “Yes, the spell is inscribed hundreds of times all over the bars, it will weaken you when you touch them, but we will make sure to push you back towards the middle after we remove the stakes. I can also use ice to help with the pain.”

“Everything b-burns...” Adrian said tiredly, his eyes drooping. Before he could drift off again he redoubled his efforts, trying to summon some measure of determination to face what had to be done but he simply had nothing left and whatever he wanted to say died before it passed his lips.

He let himself relax then, but he was jerked back to wakefulness by a horrible sensation like his body was being torn apart. He was being dragged by the stake in his throat, the others scraping along the floor as Trevor’s muscular arm pulled him close enough that he could try the first one. They were going for the one in his neck, because it was causing the most immediate issues. He wasn’t really sure if he was conscious. He knew they were going to do it, and he screamed in terror and agony, screamed until he had nothing left, his eyes filling with tears, the sigils on the bars activating and his body pulsing with helplessness and the horrifying sensation of the jagged spear being pulled out of his throat. He didn’t really know what was going on and yet he was coldly aware of the exact and specific details of feeling each tiny torture as the wood was ripped from his body in a series of jerks. He heard Trevor grunt at the effort, heard Sypha telling him to be strong, that they were there for him, but mostly he just heard himself screaming – In reality and in his mind – then only in his mind as his throat filled with blood and he drowned in it once more. Still he somehow was not fully unconscious, and they immediately decided to remove a second stake, one of the ones that went through his chest and out his back. His whole body was yanked up against the bars, crushed into them as Trevor fought with the twisted wood embedded in bone and flesh. He was tilted sideways, the unforgiving metal pressing into his body as their magical spell made it impossible for him to even attempt to pull himself free. He felt like his chest was being ripped open. There was a searing white sensation as ribs snapped, and then the second piece of wood was removed from his body and his form was let to sag bonelessly into stillness.

They reached for him again and pulled another of the stakes out, but by this point Adrian couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel anything in particular. Everything was just a wall of fire and pain. He was not awake for the rest of them, he was not aware as the other seven spears were ripped free. He did not feel Sypha’s hands smoothing over his face lovingly and dripping a few drops of water into his mouth, nor did he feel Trevor use one of the stakes to push his body back into the center of the cage. He simply went back into the bodiless realm where everything was white fire and drifted once more in unending torture.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

The next time Adrian woke it was a jarring and sudden thing, like being slammed into a wall at high velocity. He was drifting, floating in the fire, and then he was awake, his eyes wide, his awareness immediate and sharp. He sucked in a gasped breath and jerked from the floor, his whole body coursing with adrenaline and ready for a fight. He looked around himself in confusion, trying to piece together what was happening.

Sypha was sitting outside of the cage, her worried expression pinned on him as he got his bearings. Several thick books were stacked beside her. She looked exhausted. Adrian was silent for a moment, taking stock of his surroundings and his condition. His body still burned, his skin was red and flushed, and he was shaking, shivering, as a person with a fever might. His breathing was fast and shallow, each strained inhale only bringing a tiny amount of oxygen with it as he fought against the mass of blood that had filled his lungs. He could move now, at least. He could look around and move his arms, so he pushed himself up with great effort. He still had no feeling or movement in his legs. He brought one hand to his neck, feeling the place where the spear had impaled it. It was a mess of torn flesh and he realized with horror that it had not healed at all, that it was sluggishly oozing still and that the skin was partly numb where he touched it. When he looked at his hand he saw it covered in a blackish, half congealed glob of blood and dead tissue. It stunk like something rotting. He thought he was going to vomit. Indeed his stomach roiled and he heaved up a mass of blood and bile which choked him and came out of his nose and mouth, but also out of the gaping hole in his neck. His body was shuddering violently now, his teeth chattering. That had never happened before. He let himself slide back to the floor, trying to avoid the mess he’d just made. It didn’t much matter, every part of the floor was covered in his bodily fluids which had dried into a dark crust that was vaguely sticky against his face on the cold stones. His head was pounding as though an elephant were standing on it. He could hardly focus his eyes. He didn’t really want to, truthfully. He wished he could just go back to unconsciousness, but he was wide awake for the moment, the sound of his teeth chattering echoing in the large space.

“Trev, he’s awake,” Sypha called, looking at some point beyond his view. She turned her blue eyes on him then, her face hiding nothing of her fear and sympathy. “Adrian, I’m glad you’re awake. I know it looks bad, but at least you’re alive. Trevor pulled all of the stakes out but you aren’t healing. We think its the poison.”

He stared at her, her image in and out of focus. She was soon joined by Trevor, who sank down beside her and peered at him through the cage. He looked terrible, worse than a bender. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed in dark circles.

“Hey,” he said softly “How are you feeling?”

Adrian almost laughed at that – he thought it was pretty obvious how he was feeling. He just closed his eyes in resignation, not wanting to try and speak, knowing that it was only going to hurt.

“Hey, don’t pass out yet, hey, can you still hear me?” That was Trevor’s voice again, laced with worry. He opened his eyes again, wishing he could stop his teeth from knocking together. It was making his headache much worse. He nodded at Trevor very slightly, not lifting his head from the floor.

“Good. Ok. There is a lot to work on, we can't open the cage yet, but we did find something about the poison. Its designed to inhibit vampire healing, which it is obviously doing, and it is combined with a sort of acid that will burn you from the inside out. Its basically eating you. That’s why you aren’t getting better. We have to negate it or remove it from your body.”

Adrian let out a rasping noise that was intended to be a cynical laugh, but ended up turning into a coughing fit which ended in him wheezing shallowly through his damaged lungs, some black goop leaking out of a few of the holes in his chest which he hadn’t been fully aware of before. To say he was scared was an understatement.

Sypha spoke up then, shooting Trevor a glare that said she wished he hadn’t said it so directly. Adrian didn’t mind; he saw no point in sugar-coating the truth. “Based on this book, which shows the composition of the poison, there are two parts which must be dealt with separately. The anti-vampire portion is based in magical means. The incantation that was used to enchant the poison is here, and I believe I can create a counter spell that will remove that effect. Then we need to flush your system repeatedly to rinse free as much of the remaining poison as possible. After that I will make a potion that will neutralize the remaining acid, assuming I can get the ingredients. The only thing is it doesn’t really say how to flush out the poison. I expect blood would be the ideal option, as it would have healing and regenerative properties for you, but you would need loads of it. We will have to try with water first. At least there is plenty of water, there is a well in one of the laboratories. Some of Trevor’s ancestors spent a lot of time down there working on experiments and copying old books. I suppose they found it useful to have a source of water. The well still flows, and the water is pure and clean.” Sypha finished her explanation and looked sadly through the bars. “Adrian we are going to get you out of this.”

There wasn’t much that Adrian could do in his state. He nodded only slightly, staying very still and letting his eyes slip closed once more. He was shivering so much his muscles were aching from it, he was beyond exhausted. The idea of some fresh cool water did sound nice, in fact anything cold sounded good at the moment. He wondered if Sypha could make him a block of ice to lay his head on, maybe it would help with the pounding and the burning.

When he opened his eyes next he had the sense that time had passed. He had not realized he’d slept or lost consciousness – he had thought that he had just blinked, but evidently it was later. He was getting weaker, it was getting harder to focus on what was real and how much time was actually slipping by. More and more he couldn’t really feel the pain, it was almost like he was going numb all over.

“Hey, welcome back,” that was Trevor, the gentleness in his tone very uncharacteristic. He must be getting worse, then. The hunter reached an arm in through the bars, stretching towards Adrian’s body. His fingers brushed one of Adrian’s hands, which was a bit closer than his other limbs. The strong, warm fingers wrapped around his own, which were limp and frail by comparison. Trevor’s body felt incredibly hot to him. It was not painful, but it felt as though he had just submerged his hand in boiling water before they touched. He tried to make his fingers move, to reciprocate. He succeeded only in twitching them in the warm grasp.

Trevor smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. “Sypha is ready to try the incantation. If it works you should be able to begin healing.”

Adrian looked around for Sypha. She was on the other side of the cage, her hands poised to perform magic, as Adrian had witnessed many times. When he turned his gold stare on her she began. The chant was low, a language he recognized bits and pieces of, the words strange and twisted. She raised energy for her spell, gathering it in her hands, building it to fullness before opening her palms towards him through the bars and sending the glowing energy into his body. The sensation was very odd. It was as if he had swallowed a ball of tingling static electricity. It enveloped him and he felt it lifting away some horrible dark thing which had been pressing down on him endlessly. The sensation was of becoming lighter somehow, like a weight was lifted, like he was unchained or unwrapped by the gentle, tingling energy. It persisted for several seconds, getting brighter and more intense, and then in the blink of an eye the energy dissipated and the spell was over.

Sypha looked at him hopefully, studying his reaction. He knew Trevor was watching too. It _did_ feel a bit better. He could feel his body immediately begin to try repairing itself. Adrian sighed in relief, letting the healing take effect.

Vampire healing is a funny thing. It is both conscious and passive. It happens on its own to some extent, without any intentional effort from the individual. For example, if a number of injuries are sustained, then passively they will all begin to heal from the inside out together, the deepest parts slowly closing outward, the skin being the last part to regenerate. Vampire healing can also be intentional, or conscious. If Adrian were to sustain two injuries in a battle, but one was more debilitating or problematic – say a blinding eye wound and also a stab wound – then he could purposely make his body heal the eye wound first or more completely to ensure that he could continue to defend himself or escape, then he could heal the stab wound second. Both methods of healing consume a great deal of energy, especially if the injuries are numerous or severe. The healing can only progress uninterrupted if there is sufficient energy and nutrition available for the body to repair itself.

Presently Adrian was lacking in both energy reserves and nutrition, as he had lost most of his blood and he had been suffering for several days already with the severe wounds. Despite this, he felt the deepest, worst parts of his injuries ease slightly. He wound in his throat did not close, but the damage to the major vessels and to his trachea lessened, the tissue knitting together very gradually. He tried to focus there because he knew he was still bleeding from that one, and it was also interfering with his breathing and with blood getting to his brain. He also tried to focus on the punctures to his lungs, which were just as problematic for the same reasons. He avoided any injury to his lower extremities, because that did not matter for the moment. He didn’t need to feel his legs, he didn’t need his kidneys or his intestines as badly as his lungs. He was extremely grateful for his unusually thorough understanding of human anatomy suddenly. It helped to be able to picture the specific structures he wanted to heal and to understand where they were located in his body and how they worked. The anatomical education he had received from his mother was most useful in this regard.

When he had performed an initial round of targeted repairs he looked thankfully at Sypha and Trevor, who were now side by side, peering at him with bated breath. He swallowed experimentally and he was able to feel things working more normally.

“Thank you,” he said in a whispered voice, his eyes slipping closed again. He was exhausted, and the healing had used up all the energy he had left. The burning pain was still present, it was still coursing though him like fire, but at least the gaping wounds he had suffered could begin to close in some places. The edges around where the stakes had impaled him had greater concentrations of the poison, and those places which were necrotic and blackened could not be healed. The flesh was dead, it would have to be removed so new tissues could grow in its place. It was, however, a start, and it was miles ahead of what he’d been suffering only a few minutes prior.

He was falling asleep again, but he felt something freezing cold touch his lips and his eyes popped open in surprise. Sypha had created a long tube out of ice. She had put it to his lips, the end of it slight enough for him to put his mouth around.

“We’re going to give you water now, try to drink as much as you can. It will help.” she explained as Trevor tipped a laden skin into the tube. Water rushed though, the freezing cold feeling incredible and soothing to every part of him it touched. The water was washing through the tube faster than he could drink it. He put his finger over the end, blocking it while he swallowed a mouthful at a time. It was heavenly. Cold seemed to be one of the best and most soothing things in this matter. The ice cold water froze the back of his throat, froze his mouth and tongue and that was a very relieving sensation. He drank as much as he could, aware that there were still places in his body where the water was simply seeping out through holes that had no business being there. That actually seemed to work to his benefit as the liquid was pushing the remaining poison out of him, reducing the overall load of acid substance in his veins and helping to temper the incessant fire that he had almost started to get used to. He also let the water wash over his face, clearing away some of the grime and crusted dried blood. He was aware that there were several large gouges on his face and neck where he had clawed himself when the trap was initially activated. He dragged himself into a different position and let the water run over the larger wounds on his torso, where it lifted away some of the dead tissue, sending it flowing out and away along the cracks between the stones of the floor. Trevor kept adding more water to the tube, providing a continuous flow, and Sypha managed the ice itself, reshaping it as it melted away.

When they had used up everything they had brought up from the well Adrian was sitting in a freezing puddle, which suited him just fine. He still felt the searing inside him, but it was lessened, at least half as intense. That, combined with the benefits of actually drinking some water for the first time in nearly three days had a profound effect on him. He smiled tiredly, shifting his body into a better position, laying down on his side so he could rest. He nearly dropped off right then, but he remembered one important thing before he went to sleep. He looked back at Trevor and Sypha, reaching one hand as far towards them as he dared, just beyond the reach of the spelled cage. He was able to get within about ten inches of it before the magic took effect. Both Trevor and Sypha reached in and took his hand, stroking his fingers and arm because that was all they could do. They both felt like they were boiling hot but it didn’t have the same painful edge that the heat inside him had. It was comforting.

“Thank you both, it feels better,” he said softly, his vocal chords still not working quite right and making his voice raspy and thin.

“This is all my fault, I never should have made you come down here in the first place,” Trevor said angrily, but Adrian didn’t have the energy to discuss it.

“Sypha?” he whispered, eyes searching her out.

“Yes?”

“Can you make me a block of ice to lay on?” It was rough on his voice to say that much, but just imagining the coolness was worth the effort.

“Really? You are already freezing cold,” she seemed skeptical, but she obliged, standing up to summon and manipulate her most familiar element easily. Adrian felt the floor he was laying on rise beneath him a few inches, and then the extreme cold of an entire bed of ice took shape. He sighed in pleasure, the cold incredibly soothing to his burning flesh. He adjusted himself, laying with his cheek pressed against the freezing block.

He felt Trevor squeeze his hand again. “You really like that?” he asked, obviously struggling with the idea even though he understood perfectly well that the cold had no ill effect on Adrian.

Adrian was already half asleep, finally feeling better, feeling like he would be ok. “Mhm,” he mumbled, before he slipped off into a dreamless slumber.

It would be ok. Trevor and Sypha were with him. They had already helped immensely, and they were going to be there when he woke up. It was ok to let go now, it was ok to rest.

Adrian didn’t move a single muscle except to breathe for the next twelve hours.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	9. Part Nine

**Part Nine**

When he woke next it was to the sounds of slow, deep breathing. Trevor and Sypha were fast asleep together beside the cage, laying on some old rugs with Trevor’s cape over them. Sypha’s arm still reached into the cage and touched his hand. Trevor held her, one arm wrapped around her middle, his body cradling hers, his chin tucked over her head. They were both facing the cage. Adrian spent a few minutes simply studying them, feeling incredibly thankful that they were there. The way Sypha’s lips were slack, just a bit of moisture on her lower lip glinting in the dim light of the single lantern was beautiful. She looked like an angel, her short copper curls framing her pale face and full cheeks. Trevor’s face was smooth when he slept. The line between his eyebrows softened, the set of his jaw relaxed. He looked younger despite the large scar over his left eye and cheek. He could now see that the scar went over the eyelid as well which Adrian hadn’t noticed before. It must have been a terrible injury when he first received it – he was lucky not to be blinded in that eye. Trevor’s hair had fallen over part of his face and Adrian saw that his beard was filling in after so many days on the road and now trapped in the Hold. Sypha’s hand was warm in his, still feeling like it was hotter than it should be, though he knew that he was simply much colder than normal. The ice beneath his body had melted somewhat – there was only a thin disc of it remaining – and a rather sizable patch of wetness all around him. Adrian stretched, wincing at the fiery sensation of poison still coursing through him. Compared to before, however, it was much more tolerable. He almost felt good if the last few days were taken into consideration.

The sleep had aided his body in further healing itself, although the poison was still continuously wreaking havoc on his system, breaking down what his body repaired. For every two steps forward it set him one step back. Now that the intensity of his injuries and suffering had lessened he was able to push himself into a sitting position and try to take stock of things. His head ached, his veins burned, the holes were still present – he was by no means cured. He was simply less on the verge of death. He really believed that he had been approaching that threshold before Sypha had reduced the effect of the poison with her magic. He tried to imagine how he had ever doubted her before. The very idea seemed abhorrent now.

He supposed he was lucky to have survived the trap at all, because one of those stakes in his heart would surely have finished him. As it was he was alive, but trapped, weakened, and he now realized that he was quite literally starving.

Adrian had felt powerful hunger before. He thought that he completely understood the total breadth and width of his own capacity for it. When he was still living in the castle as a youth he had made a personal choice to never kill humans. At that time he had sustained himself on their blood still, but from live donors, and quite infrequently because he hated their fear. Those had been the first times he had felt the deep pull of his vampiric hunger – denying himself to avoid the unpleasantness of feeding. Then he had decided that he did not want to accept that either, that he would subsist on the blood of animals, and had transitioned to feeding from them exclusively. He had always eaten mostly normal food, interspersed with animal blood since that time; he had not tasted human blood in many years and he rarely went so long without a meal that he was uncomfortable or weakened. When he was injured in battle with his father Adrian had needed to feed heavily to replenish his strength, and it had taken much livestock to eventually satiate him. Afterwards, when he went to sleep beneath Gresit he had continued to drink from a stockpile of blood stored in glass vats and piped to him through a series of tubes of his own invention. One of the reasons that it took him so long to heal from his injuries was because it was only animal blood that he was consuming. He was ok with that. He was fine with it. He’d had the luxuries of time and solitude to replenish himself, and he suffered alone beneath the city, content to simply sleep and slowly recover while preserving his own personal values. At no point had he ever begun to desiccate. He had never denied himself so long that his body started to dry out and shut shown. He had never been severely injured save that one time, and in that instance he had quickly replenished what was lost in short order.

Now, as Adrian looked himself over, he could see something very disturbing beginning to happen. His hands were withered, shriveled, the skin pulled back from the nail beds. His arms were skinny, the subcutaneous fat gone, the ropes of his veins and tendons visible, his skin translucent and pale. It did not have the normal smooth luster that he was accustomed to seeing. It looked like the skin of an old person only instead of being lose and wrinkly, it was pulled tightly over him, stretched taught. His his nails were sharp and he could not return them to their normal appearance. Running a hand over his face he felt the gashes he had inflicted on himself still there. He could also feel how his lips were drawn tight and his fangs showed prominently. He could hardly close his mouth over them because the elasticity of his skin was so reduced. His eyes felt somehow sunken, his cheeks sucked in. Running a hand through his hair he was horrified when some of it came away in his fingers, the strands ghostly pale, almost white. He realized that his body had used up everything it had to carry out the necessary and ongoing repairs to the severe wounds. As a result he was going through the process of desiccation, which looked very much like rapid aging in the early stages and more like death as the condition progressed. He knew that it would continue until there was no moisture left; his eyes would sink in completely, his skin would thin until it began to flake and peel and he would be little more than a skeletal form, unable to move under his own power. Still he would not die, he was certain of it. But he would starve, and thirst, and he would need blood to replenish his body or this process would continue, vastly accelerated by the presence of the poison which was still harming him at that very moment.

Adrian realized that he needed more help than his friends had given him already. They would have to get him something to eat, maybe the horses to begin with if they could obtain nothing else. Maybe one horse if he ate the entire thing. He could try to stretch it out over a few days, feed repeatedly from it until it weakened, then slaughter it and consume the meat, the organs, everything he could digest. Maybe it would be enough. He didn’t know. He had never experienced anything like this but he felt a deeply edacious void within him that would take a great deal more that a simple meal to satisfy.

Then he thought of something else. What about his own self control? He still did not believe that he could become like the full vampires which were desperate and ravenous and wild. Even now with his body shriveling like a dried apple he felt like he still had his mind, his self, his control. But what if that was an illusion? What if he was fine until some small thing happened and a drop of blood was spilled and he lost himself? He didn’t know. For the moment he thought he was still ok. He had never tested his own capacity for starvation. This was unexplored territory.

For the moment he thought it would be best to at least begin with some water and food. Perhaps that would help. He had no delusions that it was going to fix what was happening, but perhaps he could slow the pace a bit. As he considered his options he broke a piece of the ice off and sucked on it. The melting water slid down his throat soothingly, the liquid most welcome and helping somewhat with the extreme thirst. The cold was an ongoing comfort, but he was not burning up so much now and it was not as necessary as it had been before. Truthfully it no longer felt cold to him at all; it just felt normal temperature to his confused body.

Adrian took stock of the items he had with him inside the cage. He had his clothing, his favourite coat now ruined and poked full of holes, soaked in blood and the remnants of his own decayed flesh. It stunk, as did everything he was wearing. He had his sword, but he was too weakened to wield it with his mind or his hand, and he didn’t need a sword at the moment. He unhooked the belt which held the sheath and put the weapon off to the side, out of the way. He wanted very much to remove his soaked, filthy clothing. He experimentally ran his hands along his back, trying to determine the location of the spinal injury. His hand ran over the protruding knobs of his vertebrae until he came to a painful opening large enough to poke a finger into, though he didn’t dare. It was above the sacrum, just barely. Almost a pelvic injury. He hadn’t considered that he had probably released his bowels somewhere through all of this, but that hardly seemed to matter in the face of the rest of it. He had been completely numb and paralyzed from the waist down earlier. Now, he was regaining some feeling in his legs and feet. There had been spears in both legs, one had gone though the left tibia just below the knee, completely shattering the bone. That one was beginning to throb, letting him know that he was getting the feeling back. The other leg had suffered two injuries, but they were in the fleshy muscular portion of his thigh and were not faring as poorly. He pulled off his boots. He decided he may as well try to remove his breeches now, because he was already disgusting as it was and hopefully they could douse him with water whenever they woke up. He unfastened the laces and began to work them off, rolling the wet fabric over his rear, then down his legs a little at a time. His hip bones stuck out alarmingly, like a skeleton’s. The muscles of his legs were wasting, the ropy appearance of veins and tendons criss-crossed beneath his thinning flesh. He got the garment down to his knees, his legs not cooperating much. He worked the right leg off over his foot, freeing himself, then more carefully pulled off the left. The wound there was gruesome, it was blackened all around and heavily bruised, and the bone would need to be reset or it was going to heal improperly. The tibia was the larger bone in the lower leg and this close to the knee it was a considerable thickness. He did not want to have to attempt to re-break his own leg if it healed bad. He would have to address that very soon, because his human friends may not be _able_ to re-break it once it healed over. He pushed his heap of disgusting clothing away and finally removed the last piece, his linen shirt. It was completely stained red now, not a single part of it not covered in blood or worse. He almost kept it – he admitted he was a bit scared to see what his body looked like beneath it, but it was foul and had to go. He slipped it off gingerly, throwing it on the pile.

His own naked body looked frightening and foreign to him now. Each rib showed, his abdomen had begun to suck inwards dramatically, the musculature of his chest and stomach had shrunken down and withered, and of course he was still covered in large open wounds, some still penetrating past the muscle walls of his body and further within, all of them flowered with ugly bruising and bleeding beneath the skin. The skin itself had taken on that same translucent quality of the very aged. He truly looked like a terror, and the thought of Trevor and Sypha seeing it made him feel a horrid mixture of things that was almost too much to even consider. He thought perhaps Trevor would better understand because he knew a great deal about vampire physiology and he had seen desiccated vampires before, but Sypha was likely to be terrified by his monstrous and skeletal appearance. Her general bravery and fearlessness wouldn’t make it any easier for her to look past the significant changes.

Adrian wished he could cover his exposed body with something. He _really_ did not want to touch his clothing again, it was literally saturated by his own rotting flesh and blood. He would not put that back on. Maybe he could secure something from beyond the cage: a rag, a blanket, anything. If only he could shrink into one corner of his prison, have the small comfort of a wall at his back, but he couldn’t go near the walls. He was forced to sit on display in the center of the cage. The helplessness was maddening. He was simply unprepared to cope with it, with feeling like a trapped animal. He wanted to fly at the bars and rip them apart, he wanted to destroy this entire stupid fucking Hold, burn it until there was nothing left. He had never in his life imagined that he could be reduced to such a pathetic state. He was the son of the most powerful man on earth for Heaven’s sake, he-

“You’re awake,” Trevor’s voice yanked him out of his little spiral of indignant panic and he shrunk in on himself, trying in vain to cover his body, to not be seen. He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing his legs as close as he was able. He bowed his head, peering out at Trevor from behind his whitened hair.

“Don’t look,” he said, finding that his voice had nearly returned to normal despite his frail state. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the exposed feeling. “Give me a blanket or something, please Trevor.”

He was met with silence for a moment, then he heard some shuffling. Something was thrown in through the bars and Adrian snatched it and pulled it over himself, not caring what it was. A worn wool blanket, moth eaten but mostly intact. He gratefully wrapped it around his body, covering as much as possible. There was an immediate sense of relief at being able to hide himself.

“I already saw,” Trevor admitted when Adrian looked back up at him.

He stared into the handsome face, slowly straightening, allowing the curtain of hair to fall away from his features. It was natural to try and appear as strong and capable as possible, even now. It was instinctive to hide his weakness. He nearly shook with disgust, despite himself. How could Trevor ever look at him again and see anything but this frail and helpless wraith? He had never considered himself vain, but then he had always been beautiful, young, physically perfect. He had been embarrassed by the scar on his chest because it had marred his body – a sign of infirmity. This… this was another realm. He didn’t even look human now. He barely looked alive and some small and insecure voice he had never heard in his own mind whispered to him that he would bear the scars of this incident for many years to come. The thought made him sick.

Trevor approached the cage, glancing at Sypha, who had rolled to her other side and was still asleep. For now. He looked back to Adrian. “You need blood. Food. You’re wasting.”

Adrian clenched his jaw and nodded, stomping down the flare of anger at hearing it spoken aloud. He didn’t know what he could say. He was caught somehow between his shame and his pride, and both were tearing at him mercilessly.

“Are you… I mean if I put my hand in there are you gonna bite it off?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, irritated that the hunter would think so little of his self-control. He hadn’t meant to be short, but he did not appreciate the insinuation that he might be some rabid animal slavering at the bars for anything that passed through them. He could not, however, deny that he was in desperate need of nourishment. “I thought if you brought one of the horses perhaps it would be sufficient to begin the process… but the poison will keep damaging me as my body repairs. This won’t stop until it is neutralized, like Sypha said. There is no point in trying to fully replenish myself until then.”

Trevor was drawing nearer now, walking around to the side of the cage that Adrian was closest to and curling his fingers around the bars, resting his face between them so he could see better. He wore a curious expression that was surprisingly devoid of the disgust the dhampir had expected to find. He looked fascinated actually, the way one is fascinated by a horrific accident and cannot look away. It was disturbing to be under such scrutiny. Adrian pulled the blanket more tightly around himself, fighting the urge to hide behind his hair. It didn’t matter really – he couldn’t move out of view. Trevor obviously noticed his body language but he didn’t pay it much attention. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” That was undeniable. Every part of him still burned, even his skin hurt. There was no point in pretending otherwise. “The poison burns from inside. I think its eating my vessels as my blood passes through them. Also my leg is broken.”

Trevor slipped an arm towards him through the bars. He had moved towards one corner of the cage before, and now Trevor was at his side, maybe a bit over a foot between them. He reached out one large hand and laid it over his protruding, bony shoulder in attempted comfort. Adrian shrank back as if burned, trying to scoot out of reach. He didn’t want to be poked at like a science experiment or soothed as if he were a frightened animal. It didn’t matter how the touch was intended, it made his skin crawl to imagine himself that way.

“Don’t,” he whispered, swallowing past the lump in his throat that he had been firmly refusing to acknowledge. He could feel Trevor’s eyes roaming over him, studying his emaciated and shrunken body despite his attempts to cover himself with the blanket. He saw the look in the man’s eyes, something between pity and horror. Trevor caught his elbow and held it fast, sliding his fingers down the length of his arm and into Adrian’s shriveled hand. He squeezed like before, his other hand coming through the bars and trying to smooth over his arm in a comforting gesture. Gold eyes watched with trepidation as the tan fingers explored him, running along his bony knuckles and the hollow spaces between the metacarpal bones, feeling the way his veins were like so many ropes wound beneath his flesh. He tried to pull free but he had no strength; he felt like Trevor could crush him with only his fingers as if he were a small bird. He sagged at the further evidence of his complete helplessness. It was awful.

“You look like you’re dead, and you’re so fucking cold, it feels like you are too,” Trevor admitted, ever tactful. What was he supposed to say to that? That it would be preferable to his current predicament? He frowned, his stomach twisting and knotting with hunger. He was very much aware of Trevor’s scent, his warmth, the sound of his heart. He stared at the hunter, suddenly understanding how easy it would be to lose himself in thirst if he paid attention to those things. He needed to distract himself.

“Is there any food? And… my leg will need to be set before it heals more.” Adrian tried again to free his hand from the invasive exploration. When Trevor released him he adjusted his position, lifting his leg into view so Trevor could see the way it was oddly bent. The pain was quickly escalating as the spinal injury healed and the nerves stitched back together.

“Yes we have food, I’ll get you something. Holy fuck, that is really broken. Let me see,” he reached for the appendage, lightly tracing over the bulge of swollen bruises where the leg cocked slightly to one side. Adrian cringed at the weird sensation on the partly numb appendage. He knew perfectly well that trying to reset the break might be pointless. This was a shatter injury for which a human would require extensive surgery that pushed the limits of even the most sophisticated medical practitioners. He assumed he would heal fine if they could just get it back in the right position. His body would take care of the rest in time – it would always strive to return to its ideal state, that was part of being what he was. He was not especially eager for the process when he considered how much pain was going to be involved. Immortal or not, Adrian had just as much capacity to feel pain as anyone else. Maybe more, since no human would be alive in the condition he was currently in. He was very good at ignoring it. Pain did not mean the same thing to him that it did to a human, but he still felt it, and his limits were being continuously tested throughout this situation.

Trevor released his leg after looking it over. Adrian quickly pulled it back under the cover of the wool. “This is going to be really hard to do alone through the cage. I think I’ll have to pull your leg out through the bars and have Sypha hold one side while I pull until the bones can be lined up.” Trevor paused his assessment, catching Adrian’s eyes. “Are you sure you want to try this?”

He wanted so much to say no, to say it was fine and to ignore it, but he knew better. What was one more horrific experience in the face of everything he had already been though? Did it even matter anymore? “Do it alone… I don’t want her to see…” He couldn’t even say it out loud, that he was afraid of what she would think. That she would never look at him the same way again.

Trevor stared hard at him, letting his leg go. “Adrian… she is going to see you. You’re in a fucking cage. What were you planning on doing, running away? Waiting until you’re skinny enough to fit through the bars?”

He couldn’t get out from under the ice blue stare. He ran a hand back through his hair, wanting to scream in frustration. His hand came away with more clumps of white hairs. There was a bald patch beginning to form on the side of his skull. He stared at his hand, feeling disconnected from what he was seeing, like it belonged to someone else. “Leave me alone,” he said finally, turning away from Trevor and scooting a few inches further from the bars. He pulled the blanket up around him like a cloak, over his head. He was so hungry, he was so tired, everything hurt so much, his own fucking _blood_ hurt inside him. This was torture.

Trevor wandered away from the cage. Adrian didn’t look up, content to sulk and stare at the floor. He heard the man rifling though their belongings and then his footsteps returned to the edge of his prison. He could smell meat.

“Here, I caught a few of these in snares. Not ideal, but its better than nothing.”

Trevor was evidently not put off by his self-pity. He didn’t acknowledge it at all, tossing a limp furry body in through the bars. Adrian felt like an animal in a cage being fed – not exactly far off from the truth at the moment. His stomach was gurgling hopefully, his fangs pulsing, his jaw clenched tightly at the scent of prey. He was salivating, despite the severe lack of fluids in his body. A rabbit. Just a small thing, but it was whole save the entrails. Trevor knew he needed more than that – he was certain the man knew that he needed about a hundred rabbits to even break the surface – but he accepted what he was offered without complaint. He snatched the small furry body up in an instant. It was raw, reasonably fresh. He wished it were still alive, but the mark around its throat told the story of its slow strangulation and eventual demise. At least it was still raw. Somehow the idea of cooked meat at present was unappetizing. He grabbed the thing and tore into it, heedless of manners, heedless of the bones; it didn’t matter. He needed every possible calorie. He hunched in under the cover of the wool and sank his teeth into the animal’s body, peeling the skin away so he did not get the dry cottony fur in his mouth – that part he wasn’t going to eat. Rabbits were easier to skin when they were just killed, but the skin still came off relatively whole, leaving him with a small, lean body. He ate every last part except the skull. He forgot himself, truly, immersed in satisfying the hunger which ravaged his battered, injured body desperately. His teeth crunched through the small bones easily, he sucked out the eyes, the brain even, he ate everything. When he was finished he even sucked his fingers clean, absently letting the empty skull roll away. It wobbled along the floor of the cage and came to rest against the bars. There was a sharp intake of breath and he looked up from the discarded hunk of bone to see Sypha staring at him wide-eyed, vaguely green like she was going to be sick.

“A-Adrian?” she asked in disbelief as if she didn’t truly recognize him. He saw the way her lip curled in revulsion at the sight of him laving his bloodied fingertips, and how her eyes darted to the small shiny skull that stared up at her with empty eye sockets.

He blinked at her, licking the blood from his lips. He suddenly remembered his appearance and how his feeding must have appeared to her combined with it. He froze under her stare for a long moment then nodded slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t know what to say on his own behalf. This, or something like this anyhow, was exactly what he had been afraid of her seeing.

Trevor acted quickly and put an arm around Sypha’s shoulders, pulling her to face him, turning her body away from the cage. He glanced at Adrian with an unreadable look before leading Sypha a few paces away, holding both her hands so she was forced to face him. “Syph its ok. Don’t freak out.”

“Trevor is that really him? Why does he look like that? He was… the rabbit… his face…” she buried her face against Trevor, who hugged her tightly, looking into the cage over her bowed head. Their eyes locked and Adrian lowered his head at his ignominious state, wishing that she had not seen that. The small meal felt wonderful in his belly, his body quickly using it to replenish some meager stores, contributing marginally to healing his injuries. Now that he had awoken his hunger his system cried out for more. He needed meat, blood, he needed so much more if he had any hope of healing his numerous wounds. First, however, he had to make Sypha understand why he appeared as he did. He would not force Trevor to shoulder that burden alone. He wiped at his mouth again and let the cover of the wool slip down, so his shoulders peeked out around it, white, bony, emaciated. He tried to sit up straighter.

“Sypha.” He was glad that his voice was mostly normal now, because he suspected that would go a long way to helping her accept what she was seeing.

She stilled against Trevor, hearing her name in his familiar tone.

“Sypha turn around.”

Trevor loosened his hold on her. She turned slowly, approaching the bars once more and peering at Adrian’s frightening countenance, studying his sunken cheeks, his bony hands and shoulders, his fingers tipped in claws which were stained with the rabbits’ blood and his own. Her eyes seemed to get wider and wider as she took in each horrifying detail, the way his hair was white and how some of it had fallen out, and the strange thinness of his flesh, the veins visible beneath it. She stared at the terrible wounds which covered the parts she could see, especially at his neck, her eyes lingering on the unhealed slashes made by his own claws and on the awful bruises which spread outwards from the impalement wound there. He let the blanket slip lower and she gasped at his chest, each rib clearly defined, the way his abdomen had sucked in tightly against his bones and the numerous and terrible injuries with had ripped him apart. He stared at her the whole time, studying her expression and forcing himself to watch her reaction in its entirety. Maybe he was a masochist; why else would he want to watch her look on him like this?

Finally after staring for a long and uninterrupted time Sypha’s clear blue eyes settled on Adrian’s, boring into him as if searching for him there. He couldn’t know what his own eyes looked like, but he expected they were their normal colour, and not reddened by hunger. He hoped they weren’t. He pulled the wool back over his shoulders. “Don’t be scared Sypha, it will get better soon. The poison is still working against my healing, its causing my body to use up all of its resources more quickly than if I were only injured. If you are able to create an antidote like you said before it will help a lot.”

Her face was so expressive. He watched her fear melt away, watched her go through a series of emotions: anger, sadness, pity, and finally he saw determination settle over her features and she grabbed the bars and knelt down in front of him.

“You must be in so much pain,” she said, clearly frustrated by the cage between them.

Adrian didn’t really want to talk about the pain, he didn’t need her pitying him over it. He preferred to change the subject. “Have you gotten any further on the potion you mentioned? Do you know what ingredients are needed? Have you discovered any method for opening the cage?”

Sypha smiled then, and it was a relief to see the expression on her face, even if it only stayed for a moment. “Oh, that’s right. Yes we have a few ideas. It might be possible to bend the bars open. The spell on them is very specific. It weakens vampires and prevents them from exiting the spelled area. If we can damage the bars themselves or even remove some of them then we may be able to get inside, and if we break enough of the spell inscriptions down then I think it will lose effect and we might be able to pull you through. I haven’t tested any of those theories though. All we can do is try.”

“What about the potion?” Adrian really, _really_ wanted to stop the endless feeling of fire in his veins. He wanted it more than he cared about the cage or anything else. It was agonizing and unrelenting. He would do anything he had to to help if he could.

“That’s trickier. I don’t have a specific recipe, but I have a good idea what I need. There is a pretty extensive laboratory in the lower floors. Many of the potions and reagents are still preserved after all these years, but some of them are damaged or expired. I’m not very experienced with this type of thing. Most of my knowledge is with magic and spell casting, or spell writing. I need to do more research, spend more time looking through the books and the materials in the lab. Some of the languages are unfamiliar to me, I don’t know all of the words.”

“Perhaps I can help. My mother was a doctor; I spent a lot of time learning about medicines and how to prepare them when I was growing up. I know how to read and speak several languages. If you bring me some of the books I might be able to read them. Maybe I could identify some of the ingredients as well.” The possibility of being useful, and of having something to do to help free and cure himself was very appealing. It would be good to think about something besides how incredibly fucking _hungry_ he was, at any rate.

There was something important they needed to do for him, he remembered then. He lifted his leg into a more visible position with his hands, revealing the break. “I need your help to set this before it heals further,” he said grimly. He knew it couldn’t be put off any longer. The small bit of sustenance he had just consumed was already knitting his bones together. He didn’t want to think of how much worse it would be if they waited. His stomach twisted in anxiety at the thought of what this process was going to feel like.

Sypha was still trying to maintain her outward determination but he could see her heart sink a bit when she eyed the injured leg. “That is going to hurt a lot.”

Adrian really wished she would stop trying to bring up the pain. Trapped and helpless he may be, but he was not weak of will. He would manage. He nodded at her anyway. “I know.”

Trevor came close to the cage again and explained to Sypha what they had discussed before. “We are going to have to pull his leg out of the bars. The spell will activate then, so we have to move quickly. Once we get it out as far as we can, then I want you to stabilize the knee and I’m going to pull on his leg until it can be moved back in place. The spell should help actually, because it will make him too weak to pull away or kick us or whatever. Once its back in place we will push his leg back through the bars. I have more rabbits for after, to help with the healing.”

Sypha nodded firmly, though she got that green look a the mention of the rabbits. “Alright, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Adrian swallowed thickly, considering how best to phrase his next words. “Is there any possibility of… live prey… I need… I cannot heal without blood,” he watched his friends carefully, unable to mask his hope that they might be able to secure something better than the dead rabbit Trevor had given him before. He wasn’t ungrateful for what had been offered, it was only that his body was literally eating itself and he was growing more ravenous by the second. Just discussing food was enough to waken his predatory appetite in a very powerful way. It was gnawing at him relentlessly.

Trevor frowned, but he didn’t seem surprised by the request. “Yeah I guess what I managed to snare isn’t going to get you very far. You mentioned one of the horses before… I don’t know how we’d get one down here, and then we will be walking an awfully long way to get out of here afterwards if you kill it.”

“That would make things more difficult later I suppose,” he answered, trying not to sound dismayed. A horse was a huge animal, it would provide a lot of blood. He had to swallow back the saliva that was flowing just thinking about such a large meal. His eyes were tingeing with crimson.

“The horses? Oh but they are so sweet, it would be awful to hurt them. Could you drink from us instead? Wouldn’t that be better anyhow?” Sypha said then, as if that were the most obvious and reasonable thing to do.

“Ok lets get working on that leg.” Trevor interjected abruptly, cutting off any possible response. He hopped into action, clapping his hands together. “Here’s how this is going to work. Adrian you are going to have to put your leg through the bars. I’m going to grab it and pull it through as far as I can. Syph you gotta straddle his leg, facing me. I want you to hold him under the knee, and pull back when I grab the lower part. Don’t let him yank his leg away, try to keep it from twisting when I pull on it. We are looking for traction here, and stability. I’m definitely not a doctor, but I’ve had a bone set before. I may have to twist pretty fucking hard. You can’t let go and we can’t stop in the middle. He is gonna scream, its going to hurt like motherfucking Hell. If we stop we will have to do it all over again. Got it?” Trevor did a few shoulder rolls, evidently trying to psych himself up for what had to be done. He left absolutely no room for the previous conversation to continue. It was not up for discussion. He turned a steady warning gaze on Adrian as if to convey that he was _never_ to bring that possibility up to Sypha. Not _ever_.

Sypha glanced at Adrian with worry plain on her face. “Are you sure about this?”

Adrian was tired of rehashing this. His patience was wearing thin and he was trying very hard not to lose it entirely. “Yes. But before you begin you will need something to splint it.”

Trevor was on it, obviously needing to remain occupied and focused. He ran off down one of the halls and returned not long after with some pieces of wood and a number of leather belts. Adrian nodded at him. “That will work. You will have to splint it after my leg is back through the bars or it won’t fit. I’m ready.”

He tried to make his voice sound sure, sound like he was actually prepared for what was coming, but if he was honest with himself he knew he was never really going to be ready. He just had to do it. He had a very high tolerance for pain, he could do this.

“Ok. Come as close as you can and put your leg through the bars.” Trevor was doing the same thing he was, just forcing himself to do it and not think about it. His eyes were intense. His jaw was clenching every few seconds but he was otherwise steady and unwavering, as though he were marching into battle. He got into a receiving position, squatting down and reaching towards the bars. Adrian shuffled along the floor towards them and took a preparatory breath as he neared the threshold of the spell. He then forced himself forward, plunging his leg through the opening between the bars.

It happened very quickly. The symbols on the cage began to glow the moment he neared them. He realized their oversight immediately, but the spell stole through him and he wilted, his body slackening, pain erupting like an explosion though his body and mind. He had forgotten that the spell was also designed to keep him inside the cage. He didn’t know what would happen if they pulled an arm or leg past the barrier. It was too late to think about it now, because Trevor seized his foot and bodily yanked his injured leg through the two iron pieces. The spell fought against him, he felt every fiber of his being shrieking in pain that he needed to get away, get back into the cage, that he COULD NOT have any part of his body outside of the spelled area. The cavern was filled with the grating sound of his panicked screams. It felt as if they were tearing his leg off and they hadn’t even done anything yet. He tried in vain to pull it back in, but Trevor was far stronger than he was at the moment and he could not so much as lift his head because he was so weakened by the magic. His thigh widened at a certain point and wedged between the bars. He flailed, twisting, attempting to get away but all his efforts amounted to was a weak sort of flopping motion that did nothing to free his trapped leg. The leg itself roared with agony, the spell making it feel as though it might actually bust into flames.

“Sypha, straddle his leg, hurry up,” Trevor ordered, all business. He knew exactly what was going on and he wasn’t letting it get to him. The man was absolutely dead focused under the pressure of what needed to be done.

White spots formed in Adrian’s vision. It almost felt like he was in the burning unconscious place all over again, except it was all concentrated on his leg. He barely felt Sypha grabbing him under the knee like Trevor had instructed. He couldn’t feel his foot, it just seemed like he had dipped the whole appendage in a vat of molten lava.

“Ok Syph, remember, don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

They both spoke with such absolute focus and certainty that Adrian might have been comforted by it had he been capable of hearing them. As it was he was already locked in a world of white and he was fading fast. He barely felt them tense and then Trevor’s powerful hands were pulling firmly on his leg, jamming his thigh harder between the bars, and the bones ground together horribly, the sound deep in his body. He screamed so hard his voice simply broke and he was just wheezing, his eyes unseeing, his awareness slipping away. Then it was done and Trevor was pushing his leg back through the bars and the white torture simply stopped as soon as his leg was all the way inside the cage.

Adrian laid panting on the floor, still under the effect of the spell but at a far more tolerable level now that he had returned to the confined space. He felt completely boneless, limp. His mind buzzed with the aftereffect of what had just happened. Truthfully he barely registered the pain of his leg being re-set at the moment. He was dimly aware that Sypha was holding the wooden pieces against him and Trevor was cinching the belts from his thigh down to to the ankle, immobilizing his knee. When they finished they both reached in together and he felt their warm hands pushing him back into the safe area, and the weakness of the spell finally subsided.

His body began to tremble and he felt himself crying, the wetness leaking down the sides of his face as he stared at the ceiling of the cage, unable to help the quiet sobbing.

“Hey, its over, you got through it. It will be ok now,” Sypha soothed, her hand squeezing his reassuringly. “I’m with you Adrian. Its ok.”

He tilted his head to the side, seeing her blurry shape through the tears. He weakly squeezed her hand back, the tremors rocking through him. He didn’t have any words just yet; he was still trying to recover his senses. He clutched her hand close in his skeletal fingers, rolling onto his side facing towards her, hugging her hand and curling up as much as he could. His body tingled strangely in the absence of the extreme agony he had just endured, like it couldn’t tell if it was really over or if he’d just overwhelmed his nerves to the point that they stopped functioning. His indignant pride was forgotten. The spell’s jarring effect had laid him bare, and he was helpless before Trevor and Sypha, unable to so much as pull the blanket over his sunken form. Slowly exhaustion swept in and pulled him down into the darkness of unconsciousness.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I promise promise promise that things will get easier soon. This part was a tough one, I must have reread it ten times and I'm still not that happy with it. Poor Adrian is looking kinda Crypt Keeper-y which is really rough for everyone (myself included!), but this is important to the story and I can't just gloss over it. More soon.


	10. Part Ten

**Part Ten**

“Alright. When you see it get red hot, try it.”

“You really think this is gonna work?”

“I can’t watch him suffer in there anymore Trevor. We have to get him out. This can’t continue.”

“You saw what happened when we pulled his leg out, the spell won’t let his body leave the cage. Opening the bars isn’t going to do fuckall.”

“I have to try something. If you can’t figure out how to open the stupid thing then this is my only other idea. What kind of trap cannot be released? What kind of idiots were your relatives?”

“I just can’t find the fucking instructions. They are probably hidden somewhere, but nobody ever told me. I didn’t even know this stupid cock-sucking trap existed or I never would have made him come down here in the first place. This place is huge Sypha. Who knows who even set the trap up? It’s probably been here for decades, maybe even centuries.”

“I’m opening it _now_.” Sypha’s voice left no room for argument. Her determination was plain in her tone.

Adrian slowly blinked his eyes open and the familiar scene of his prison came into view. He was still laying curled on his side, but someone had been kind enough to pull the blanket over him at least. He saw Trevor and Sypha outside, near the far wall of the cage. Trevor was holding a large metal bar and Sypha had her hands poised to perform magic. She raised her hands with the pinkie and index fingers pointing outwards and fire sprang to life at her behest, encircling one of the bars. Here face was set, her brows making a slight crease in the middle as she focused. Trevor hopped out of the way as the flames increased in size until they engulfed the bar entirely, the shadows dancing around them, glinting in her eyes. When she performed magic it was as if everything else dropped away and it was just her and the energy bowing under her intense will. Adrian could feel the heat wash over him in a wave; she was using a very high concentration of fire for such a small object. After several seconds of sustained heat the bar turned bright orange. She released the spell and stepped back and Trevor jammed the pry in between the heated bar and the one beside it, experimentally shoving with his weight to try and bend it open. At first nothing happened and Sypha looked dismayed, but Trevor summoned more strength from within and squatted a bit, giving himself more leverage. Teeth grit, lips pulled back in strain, his chest, arms and back rippled as he engaged all his muscles to force the iron to give way. With a groan, the bar submitted to his force, slowly bending to the side until it hit the next one beside it. He did not stop there, adjusting his tool and torquing the iron outwards as well, until it overlapped the bar beside it to create the widest possible aperture. Now the space which had only been large enough for a man’s arm was double the width, at least large enough for a man’s head to fit through.

This was a very interesting development. Adrian sat up and Trevor and Sypha turned to look at him.

“That looks promising,” he said in encouragement. He felt better after some rest – the agony from a few hours before was gone, his body back to where it had been before the terrifying experience of the containment spell had been unleashed on it. Trevor gave him a wide smile, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort and the heat of Sypha’s fire spell. He let the metal bar dangle from his hand, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“You can thank her, this was all Sypha’s idea.”

This was good, this was a positive development. Even if Adrian couldn’t leave the cage, it would be very nice if they could enter it. He missed being close to them. He just wanted to touch them so badly, to feel something other than pain. He was nearly fantasizing about getting clean as well, and a simple bucket of water to wash with would be a Godsend.

Sypha summoned ice to her fingertips, using it to cool the hot bar. Steam erupted from the metal the instant the ice made contact. When it was cool enough to touch she began to use her fire again to heat up the bar on the other side of the one they had just bent. As before, she waited until it was red hot then she released the spell and stepped out of the way so Trevor could work on it. Adrian watched appreciatively as the hunter engaged his whole body once more, teeth flashing, a grunt of effort escaping him as he used his strength to force the bar away. He had less leverage this time, but he still managed to force the metal to submit to the pry, bending the thick iron until there was a decent sized opening between the two damaged pieces. He threw down the tool with a loud clang, leaning on a nearby section of the cage to catch his breath.

Sypha repeated the ice spell once more and cooled the metal. It was done. There was an opening big enough for a person to pass through in the side of the cage. She beamed and glanced at Trevor triumphantly. “I told you I could do it,” she boasted, moving towards the opening and popping her head in.

The hunter was still panting slightly, his chest and forehead glistening with sweat in the light of the lanterns. Adrian could hear his heart hammering away at an accelerated pace. “Oh yeah, you did it all by yourself Syph,” he joked, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. She shot him a smug look and returned her focus to the cage.

As Sypha began to squeeze though the hole they had made Adrian became aware of the state of the cage itself, and his body. It was filthy. He stared, dismayed, at the remains of his clothes and the rabbit, and then down at himself, still coated in his own blood and other even less pleasant substances.

“Sypha you can’t come in here yet, I need to wash all of this away. Would you be able to bring some water?”

“I don’t care about that,” she brushed off his concerns and climbed through the opening between the bars. For a woman who had been almost afraid to look at him a few hours ago she had become remarkably bold. Was it possible that she could so easily overlook everything that had happened – his wasting body, the injuries, all of it? Could she so easily brush those things away? He was suddenly reminded of a promise he had made. He had said he would never doubt her. He had to be careful not to underestimate her because she was always proving that she was more than she appeared.

She dropped to her knees beside him and paused, her eyes lingering on his hair, no doubt observing the horrid patchiness and the bluish translucence of the flesh of his scalp. He could only guess what he looked like up close. Like a living corpse, more or less. Was she really willing to touch him? Her hand extended gingerly, either afraid of hurting him or afraid of what it was going to feel like under her fingers. There was suddenly an awkwardness between them which hadn’t existed before. He wanted to lean into her hand, to close the gap between them, but he needed to let her initiate it. She had to choose if she was willing to be this close to him or not. As she sat before him her scent filled his senses, her soft pinkness and the cupid’s bow of her lips so beautiful that he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he didn’t dare. The drum of her heart was deafening, the organ running overtime as she stared into his face. She gingerly extended a hand. He didn’t miss the hesitance; he could see that she struggled to reconcile what her eyes were seeing and what her mind knew to be true.

Finally her resolve came to the fore and she laid her warm fingers on his cheek, her palm hot, soft, she smelled so good. Her hand traced over his disfigured flesh slowly. She couldn’t fully hide her reaction. He could see that it felt wrong to her, cold and powdery, nothing like the body she had explored so eagerly less than a week past. She did not pull away. She was determined to… he didn’t know what. Convince herself that it was really him? Convince him that she was really ok with it? Maybe both. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of her touch, a sigh on his lips. Her hand ran carefully along his face, trying to avoid his numerous wounds. She stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“Adrian,” she said softly, leaning a bit closer. He hated the tone in her voice – pity. Like she was petting an injured animal. He tried very hard not to show that feeling because he needed her hand on him, he needed the contact. He wanted to touch her but he was afraid he would scare her or make her pull away and he didn’t know if he could take that at the moment. He sat up straight and allowed her continued exploration, but there was a disturbing scent which he was becoming more aware of. He frowned, pulling his face away and catching her wrist quickly in his fingers. He turned her arm so her pale flesh was exposed, careful not to let his claws dig into her skin. The injury from a few nights ago had scabbed over but he could smell her blood just beneath the damaged surface. He stared at it in surprise for a moment as she tried to free her arm from his grasp with obvious and mounting discomfort. He knew his eyes were reddening now and his already parched throat seemed to spasm at the prospect of actual fresh blood. He very deliberately swallowed the saliva that filled his mouth and released her arm, looking away at the floor to try and compose himself. Hunger tore at him, it ripped and twisted like something alive in his guts. She quickly realized what was happening and backed away slowly, her expression wary. He had already scared her and she had only been in the cage with him for a minute.

“Its alright,” he said softly. He was starving, yes, but he was still himself. He would never harm her. She had to know that; he needed her to understand that. He needed it to be true for his own sanity as well, and perhaps for his dignity, which was hanging by a thread. He was still better than an animal despite how difficult it was becoming to tell the difference. A few more days like this, however, and he had to wonder if he would still be able to maintain his control.

She pulled her sleeve down over the injury and tugged his hand into her lap instead. It was one of the few parts of his body which was not injured and she was able to explore it more easily. Her warm fingers squeezed his palm, massaging gently and working along his fingers, over the bumps of the joints, down to the pads of his fingertips. She explored the clawed nails with obvious curiosity. He was amazed that she was so bold, and that she didn’t shrink away even after his body had betrayed him so easily. Her touch was firm and confident, she was not meek or outwardly frightened. She studied the pink stains that coloured his digits – blood remaining from all the things that had transpired recently – and she glanced at Trevor just outside of the cage.

“We need some water, can you get a bucket?”

Trevor had been watching everything that transpired very closely. He was obviously wary of leaving her unattended. He didn’t trust that Adrian would be able to control his thirst, no matter how much they had shared together. Adrian was mildly insulted, but he had to be reasonable as well. He understood Trevor’s concerns. They had all watched him work past his obvious hunger only a second ago. He couldn't pretend he wasn’t thinking about her blood, but he hoped he had demonstrated that he wasn’t some crazed monster that was going to leap on her and devour her. It probably helped that he was heavily debilitated and trapped in a magical cage that reduced him to a limp doll by mere proximity. Whatever Trevor’s reasons, he was willing to leave them alone together long enough to get water from the well several floors down. His footsteps echoed through the cavern.

When Trevor was out of the immediate vicinity Sypha turned her clear blue eyes on Adrian and leaned closer, still holding his hand. “You said before that you needed blood to heal. It freaks me out a bit, but I want you to get better. I will give you some of mine if it would help.”

Adrian suddenly wished that Trevor hadn’t left them alone. Damn Sypha for waiting until he was gone to say this. It was so much harder to refuse when she was sitting right in front of him with her heart drumming loudly. It would be easier if Trevor just shut her down completely like before. He pulled his hand free of hers, even as the red intensified in his eyes and his fangs throbbed at the thought of sinking into an actual living thing. Control be damned; he had to work hard to refuse her. If he opened the floodgates now he was not certain he could stop. He hadn’t had human blood in around ten years and just the idea of it made him shiver bodily. She couldn’t understand what she was asking for; she was only saying it because she didn’t want to see him like this. She wanted to help, she wanted to do what she could, but if he were to actually accept he was sure they would both regret it. Even if he allowed himself to consider the possibility (and he didn’t), he had decided long ago that he would not feed from any human. A willing donor was a rare and most unusual thing, but this was simply not the time or place, and he had no intention of caving in so easily.

“No Sypha, I cannot do that. I would never hurt you,” he made sure to keep his tone carefully even, and he allowed himself to meet her eyes, to let her see the intensifying hunger in his own in hopes that she would realize how difficult it was for him to refuse her. She had to possess some natural instinct for self preservation. Surely she would understand.

“Would it hurt me that much?” she asked, scooting a little closer. How preposterous that she was barely willing to touch him a few minutes ago and now she would propose that he tear into her like so much meat. He swallowed again, trying not to think about tearing into things. This wave of hunger would pass – he just had to distract himself.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t drink human blood. Please don’t ask again. Soon enough we will get this cage open and then I will find something more suitable.”

Sypha nodded, some mixture of relief and dismay on her features. He believed the latter was because she wanted to help him, but he could see that she was scared as well. Good. She needed to understand that this was not a game. He was grateful to hear Trevor’s steps getting nearer. His eyes flicked over as the messy head of brown hair came into view, arms laden with two water buckets. Sypha went to the opening in the cage as Trevor passed one of the buckets in. Sypha brought the bucket to Adrian and Trevor tossed a rag in. She knelt beside him and dipped the cloth in the water, trying to approach him with it.

Adrian stiffened. “I can wash myself.” He was not going to be sponge bathed like an invalid. He pulled the cloth from her fingers and began by cleaning his hands, working the red stains free, scraping the blood from under his nails with the tip of one claw. The water was already turning pale pink. Sypha obviously wanted to help, but he couldn’t accept it. He had essentially sacrificed all of his dignity in recent days and had been unable to do much of anything for himself the entire time. It was so incredibly humiliating to be in this situation. He would do the few things he could do alone.

After a concerted effort with the limited materials Adrian was able to finally clean some of the gore from himself. It felt much better to have a clean face and hands. The distraction prove effective and the gnawing flare of starvation was not as intense. Sypha was unwilling to give him space, however. She sat right at his side and he could see her hands twitching with the desire to do something, to help in some way. She seemed to be getting used to him, she wasn’t so apprehensive about touching him now. Trevor was less inclined, still sitting outside of the cage and switching out the bucket after a few minutes. He had been uncharacteristically serious and quiet through this whole process. Perhaps it was because of witnessing him tear up the rabbit, perhaps it was something else, but he seemed unwilling to approach now that it was actually possible. Adrian tried not to let it bother him.

“Sypha can you help me with my back?” he asked her and she smiled brightly at the opportunity to do something.

“Of course,” she picked up the cloth and knelt behind him, pushing his hair out of the way gingerly. He sincerely hoped no more of it fell out. It was disgusting. Adrian had always liked his pretty blonde hair and he had no idea if it would just grow right back or if he was doomed to spend weeks or even months waiting for it to return to normal. He was scared to find out the answer.

There was a small flash of magic behind him, and when Sypha put the cloth to his shoulders the water was wonderfully warm. He sighed, relaxing muscles that he hadn’t realized were tensed. She worked carefully, patiently, dabbing around the wounds, her fingers running along his flesh gently. He had never been attended to this way in his life except as a very small child by his mother, and that was an entirely different context. Sypha was growing bolder as she began to explore him, and to get a sense for which areas were still too painful to work around, and where she was able to touch more freely.

As much as Adrian’s pride and hunger had pushed him to do this alone, he was quickly succumbing to her fingertips, his eyes falling shut as she moved on from his back, passing the warm cloth over his chest, down his arms, and over the un-splinted leg. She even did his feet, and this was what completely unraveled him, pulled down the walls of fear and tension and made him feel like they were back to the way it had been at the inn, just comfortable with one another as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He felt something breaking in him, it was amazing that she would do this, would treat him this way. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, determined not to let his fluttering heart burst at the warmth of her acceptance.

After she had done as much as she could Adrian was deemed ‘clean’ and the buckets were set aside. He expected Sypha to exit the cell but instead she propped herself up against the bars, careful of the distance that the spell could reach, and pulled his head into her lap, tucking the blanket around him. He was already completely pliant beneath her fingertips and he could not refuse her, even though he was truly terrified that some horrific detail of his condition would be the tipping point that had her shrinking away in revulsion. She did not. She was not afraid of him. She was not scared of hurting him now that she knew how to avoid the worst areas.

“You can sleep a bit, if you’re tired,” she spoke softly, looking down at his face in her lap with a warm smile. Her fingers were smoothing over his cheeks, over his forehead, massaging him, stroking lightly over his closed eyelids, and finally she moved them to his scalp, sinking through the thinned mess of his hair, massaging with confident motions. He wanted to push her hand away because he was so scared by the possibility that more of his hair would fall out but he couldn’t bring himself to deny her. He would take anything she would give. The pleasure of her hands was incredible. He felt safe and warm and the softness of her body under his sore head was divine.

“I’ve slept enough for now, maybe we could look through some of the books you were talking about?” He very much wanted to stay close to her now that he was more relaxed, and being clean was so refreshing that he felt a renewed bit of strength. He might be able to actually focus on reading something for a little while.

“Alright,” she obliged, but she didn’t take her hands off of him and he made no move to stop her from continuing to unravel him. Her fingers explored his scalp, massaging gentle circles, then they worked down along his ears, over the lobes and along the cartilage, tracing her fingers over the pointed tips. She gently pinched them between her thumb and forefingers, causing him to moan softly in pleasure. Her slow breathing was lulling him, the caresses to his hair and ears pulling him away from this awful cage, giving him a few minutes of escape from the cruel reality of his condition. Nothing eased the fire still running in his veins, but it made him forget it for a brief time.

She worked her hands down from his ears, over the muscles of his jaw. Her digits deftly pressed and rubbed along the large muscle responsible for clenching the jaws together. His mouth fell open slightly as she worked the muscles, calming him, taking away the pain and stress. Then she was leaning over him and pressing her lips to his forehead, over his closed eyes, on the tip of his nose. He had deep furrows over the lower part of his face from tearing at himself still, but they were starting to shrink ever so slightly. She kissed over one slice which ran from his cheek down his jaw to his throat, connecting into the still raw and angry wound there. He gasped at the sensation of her lips over the lacerated flesh, but she had been most gentle and it didn’t hurt. She was leaning over him, slowly moving closer to his mouth. Was she actually going to try and kiss him? He blinked up at her, meeting her eyes. She was open to him, hiding nothing. Her hands slid over his chest, over his heart, continuing her slow relaxation of his body. His breath caught as she ran her hand along his ribs, his muscles tensing. She pulled back, peering at him with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“No, it feels good,” he answered, but he was still pushing her hands gently off him. He felt so defenseless like this, it was disconcerting to be so weakened and exposed and somehow her touch over his torso increased the sensation of vulnerability. It was instinctual to want to hide that, even from trusted allies. She looked a little hurt but accepted his wishes, removing her hands.

“I’m going to get some of those books, I’ll be right back.”

She eased his head from her lap, pulling off her outer robe and bundling it up, tucking it under his head like a pillow. Her bare shoulders peeked out over the top of her black arm sleeves, her lean musculature visible without the cover of the outer garment. He followed her movements as she climbed back through the opening in the bars and began to rummage through the considerable pile of books she had collected from around the Hold. His eyes fell on Trevor, who was still watching him with that strange sober expression. They looked at each other quietly for a moment. He didn’t know what was stopping the man from approaching him. It wasn’t fear, he saw no trace of it and hadn’t expected that he would. He had seemed perfectly fine talking to him and touching him through the bars before, but now he could see that there was something bothering him. He didn’t know what caused that odd look in his eyes. He didn’t understand it.

“Trevor, what’s wrong?” he asked finally, after the hunter stared at him for nearly a solid minute.

For a man who typically deflected most things with humour or cynicism he wilted remarkably quickly at the question, his shoulders visibly sagging.

“Well you’re looking more and more like death, and we’re just fucking sitting here, waiting around. Its been nearly three days. I hate not doing anything. It sucks.”

He moved around to the opening in the cage, looking in through the bars as though he was nervous to pass through them. What had gotten into him? Trevor was many things, but quiet and apprehensive were rarely among them. Adrian pushed himself to sit up, wincing at the pain and patted the stones beside him. “Come sit?”

Trevor squeezed in through the small opening and stepped into the middle of the cage, casting his eyes around it with a frown. His gaze settled on the area beside the dhampir but didn’t sit down.

“What? I won’t bite,” Adrian said with a tiny smirk, making sure to flash his teeth a bit. The attempted levity seemed to do the trick and Trevor came and sat on the floor with one leg sticking out and his elbow resting on his bent knee. He considered Adrian for a moment, eyes running over his many injuries and his sunken flesh.

“You have no idea how creepy that is coming from you at the moment.”

“I have a bit of an idea,” he answered, feeling incredibly relieved at the small barb. Jokes were good. That was normal and anything normal was more than welcome right now when everything was so wildly out of control and decidedly _ab_ normal.

“This is so fucked up,” Trevor admitted then, gesturing to the cage around them. “I can’t believe I made you come down here and the fucking place was booby trapped. I thought coming here was going to help solve our problems, not make things worse.”

Adrian understood Trevor’s behaviour now. He was feeling guilty. As much as he wanted to console the Belmont heir he sort of didn’t mind making him squirm a little. Not because he was cruel, or angry, but because it might actually make Trevor feel better if he had to work a bit to earn forgiveness for his perceived failures. Adrian wasn’t really mad at him. He knew it was all just terrible luck and that Trevor hadn't consciously done anything to cause these circumstances.

“Well,” he began, “I can think of at least two things you could do to show me how sorry you are for getting me staked ten times and poisoned and trapped in this over sized kennel. I mean, if you don’t mind, that is.”

Trevor was catching on, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew Adrian was purposely milking it but he also knew he’d more than earned the right to do so. “And what would that be?”

“First, get me some clean, dry clothes, and see what can be salvaged from those,” he pointed one bony clawed finger at the gross heap that was once his finely tailored silk overcoat and his other clothing. “I love that coat and I would really prefer not to see it rotting in a heap.”

Trevor glanced at the mass, nodding. “Alright, I think I can manage that. What else?”

“Second, I remember you telling me that you spent quite a lot of time hunting for game when you were younger. Go out and hunt me something to eat. Something large and alive. If I don’t get a real meal soon I think I’m going to get a lot less fun and I might have to take Sypha up on her offer.” Adrian made sure to keep his tone as sedate as possible. He was partly joking, but he was also very much serious about becoming less fun. He could feel a cold and potentially violent edge that was sharpening within him by the hour.

“You really haven’t been very much fun since we got here you know,” Trevor shot back deadpan, his shoulders easing. He shifted slightly into a cross-legged position and faced Adrian. He brought a hand to each of his upper arms. His palms were warm and strong and it gave him the same sense he had before, like he was fragile and breakable. He hated that feeling. He wanted to squirm out from the warm grip but he managed to resist the urge and remain in place. He could hear Trevor’s strong heartbeat clearly, smell his sweat and his skin as he leaned a bit closer. “I’m sorry I fucked up so bad and that you got hurt because of it.” Trevor’s voice was low, laden with his guilt. He was trying not to stare at Adrian’s injuries, but he was doing a poor job of it.

“I know you are,” he answered gently, bringing a hand over one of Trevor’s. “Just help me get out of this. I don’t want to be stuck in this cage anymore. I am tired, and hungry, and it hurts. Just get me out of here. I… I can’t be in this thing anymore. We don’t have time for all of this. The horde is coming, maybe they are already up there waiting for us. My father’s army is not going to wait for us to sort this out, they will just keep killing people. The longer we stay in here and do nothing the more people are going to die.”

Sypha came back through the bars at that moment, a large helping of books in her arms. She set them on the floor and sat down, picking up the one on top of the pile. Trevor lowered his hands from Adrian's arms and rose to his feet, collecting the pile of clothes and tossing it out of the cage. He squeezed back through the opening and Sypha pushed the book she was holding into Adrian’s hand.

“This is the book where I found the information about the poison. This language… I am not as familiar with it in written form. Do you know it?”

Adrian accepted the book, opening it and skimming over the various pages. It appeared to be mostly potions, information about different elements and substances which could be derived from plants or minerals. He recognized the language, and remembered learning about these things with his father, sitting together in the extensive castle laboratory and learning how to make salves, balms, and various other things. His heart hurt, looking over the old text – it brought up such fond memories so unexpectedly. He snapped the book shut, a frown knitting his brows. “Yes, I can read this,” he said softly.

“Good! I know Chaldaic, but reading it is tricky. Its much easier to speak. Its been a long time since I read anything in that language.”

“Where is the page about the poison?” he asked and she took the book back, flipping through it to find the right page. She passed it back to him.

“Here it is. I know these other words, but this one I don’t recognize.”

He took the large volume, studying the place she indicated, then reading the pages before and after it quickly, just in case there was more information. “I know what you need,” he said after spending a few minutes looking it over. “Its the roots and stems of a flowering plant that grows nearby. It says it grows over the family graves. I guess it means the Belmont family graves. This book was written by one of Trevor’s ancestors, so it has to be close by. There is a description of it, and it refers to another book with diagrams and drawings for an example. Do you have the other book that was with this one?”

Trevor came back then, with Adrian’s pack in his hands. He set it down beside the books and sat back down, curious about what they’d found.

Sypha selected another book from her pile, but the binding was very old, much older than the first book. “This is it, but it looks so different.”

“Oh I can explain that,” Trevor interjected, “One of my uncles was working on transcribing the older books so that information wouldn’t be lost. He regularly copied entire volumes. The first one is a copy, the other one must be an original from the same collection.”

Sypha nodded her understanding. “So, then what happens to the original volume once its copied?”

Trevor shrugged. “Beats me. I fucking haaaated being forced to copy books. They used to use it as an ‘educational punishment’ when we were being shits,” he made air quotes as he said it, indicating how seriously he’d taken that particular form of punishment. “They stopped making me do it when they realized that I was skipping parts to get out faster. Then they switched to the belt, which was a little more effective,” He grinned guiltily at that.

“Yes I suppose they _would_ have to beat your lessons into you,” Sypha said flatly and Adrian laughed, imagining what Trevor might have been like as a boy.

“Wait…” Adrian looked up from the book he was carefully examining, trying to find the diagram which corresponded to the flower described in the first volume, “Are you saying that its possible that information from some of these books might be missing? Or that certain books may not be original?”

“I guess so, yeah. I have no idea.”

Adrian found the page he was looking for then. The book was very old, and very delicate. He carefully pushed it open further, trying not to damage the spine. He ran one finger along the page until he found the exact diagram that had been referenced. “Do you recognize this flower? From your family’s graveyard? It would be white according to the description,” he turned the book towards the hunter.

“Uhh… I mean I am not gonna lie… all flowers pretty much look the same to me. I guess so? I don’t know… I just told you I hated this kind of shit. I literally have never cared about flowers for a second in my entire life.”

Sypha smacked him on the back of the head.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Trevor that’s the flower we need to heal Adrian of the poison. So you’d better start caring about it because you are going to go out there and get it.”

“Uhh… I really don’t think you should trust me to do that. I’ll bring back the wrong thing and it’ll make him worse. You have to come with me Syph. I’ll show you where the graves are and hunt for some game while you look. You can stick to picking daisies.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but then thought better of it. “Alright. That’s actually a good plan. Lets go now. Its daytime, it will make it easier to find what we are looking for, and there won’t be any night creatures.”

They both rose to go, then Sypha turned back to Adrian and set the book down. “You can keep looking through these for something that might help while we’re gone. Is there anything you need us to bring you before we go?”

He looked around his little cell as if he were considering it, but he already knew there was nothing he needed except to get out of the cage and be cured of the poison. “I’ll be fine. Don’t let Trevor get eaten by a bear.”

“I can hear you,” the hunter said in mock irritation as he gathered his weapons and a few other supplies.

Sypha was about to go but she remembered her robe, taking it from the floor. Adrian wouldn’t need it now that he had his pack with his own clothes and other supplies. She slipped it on, smoothing her hands over the blue wool, then she knelt down and put her arms around him gently, kissing his sunken cheek. “We will be back as soon as we can, just try to be patient a little longer,” she said to him, and made her way through the bars and out of sight. Trevor was right behind her but he paused in the doorway, looking back to Adrian. He returned to his various belongings, grabbing something and bringing it to the cage. His sword hilt clanged loudly against the bars as he re-entered. He was now in his full cloak and had all his weapons strapped to various parts of him. He seemed somehow larger and more imposing in his gear, more intimidating. That was good. He looked quite capable of fulfilling Adrian’s request.

He bent on his knee and laid two more rabbits on the stones then put a hand on Adrian’s bony shoulder, catching his eyes in a serious look. “I am gonna bring you the biggest, baddest fuckin animal I can find. Just sit tight. We will try to be back before dark if I can get something. This is going to be over soon. I promise.”

Adrian didn’t say anything, the scent of the meat holding most of his attention. Trevor was gone in a few more seconds. He heard the pair’s footsteps fading as they exited the Hold, climbing the many stairs up to the doorway at the top. He heard Sypha chanting, and the air suddenly whooshed when the stone was moved to allow them to exit. He was able to smell the outside air very briefly, its freshness different from the vaguely mouldy smells of dusty books that dominated the Hold. It fell still once more as they re-closed the stone behind them and then everything was silent. He only waited a moment before devouring the two rabbits as he had the one earlier. The meat was not as fresh and in any other circumstance he would have refused to consume such distasteful game. For the moment he had nothing else and it was a small comfort to have a few more calories and the bit of blood that was left in them. Old blood was horrible, congealed, it smelled wrong, but he was well past the point of being able to refuse. He did as before, taking everything that was possible to consume from the animals, forcing himself to crunch though the bones just to have something more in his stomach. He pitched both little skulls out of his iron prison, sending them rolling down a seemingly endless series of staircases until they finally grew silent at some invisible position far below. The cold meal slid unpleasantly into his stomach. It was digested very quickly, contributing only marginally to any sort of healing and serving mostly to just make him that much hungrier for something substantial. His body was crying out desperately, his fingers trembling lightly as the sensation of starvation intensified now that there was nobody around to distract him from it.

Alone in the cavern for the first time, he was able to hear the sounds of water dripping somewhere, and little else. It was incredibly silent in the deep underground space. It reminded him a bit of his resting place under Gresit. They had left one lantern burning, but it ran out of fuel after a few hours, plunging him into complete blackness. He could see, but his eyes were only able to make out a few details in the absolute absence of all light. Even vampire vision required at least a tiny amount of light to see by. He eventually opened his pack and worked through his possessions slowly, running his fingers over his personal trinkets and other items. He also tried for his sword, reaching out to see if he could call it, but he was too weak to even make it twitch in the scabbard. He found clothing, pulling a shirt over his head. Unfortunately the bottoms could not be donned because of the splint on his leg, which was getting quite stiff and sore after so much time resting on the stone floor. He wiggled his toes, thankful that they worked now, at least. It would be so good to lay in a real bed again, to move normally, to not be in constant pain. It would be wonderful if he could just stop the horrible incessant growling of his stomach, the only other sound in the Hold now that his friends had gone.

In their absence he spent some time reflecting on everything which had transpired in the last week. It had completely changed his life, and he didn’t just mean because of the trap. He had feelings for them, for Trevor and Sypha. He cared for them deeply, so much so that his heart ached when he thought of how much he missed them already, after only a few hours.

He recalled telling his friends about life growing up in the castle and was drawn into a memory of his father. When things had been terrible between them right before his mother had gone, he had told Adrian that he would never belong with the humans, no matter how much he pretended to be like them. He would never be accepted by them or have a real place among them.

“You were wrong Father,” he said out loud in he darkness. “You were wrong. I do have a place with them, they are my friends, and I am theirs. They will come back and together we will stop you.”

The hours ticked away, stretching longer and longer, and Adrian eventually laid down again, making himself as comfortable as he could with the items he had on hand. He couldn’t help but worry that something could happen to them. The daylight would eventually pass, and night would come, and with it the danger of the night creatures. Trevor and Sypha were well equipped to defend themselves, but they were only human. They could be injured, they could be killed. As the hours crept by, impossible to measure in the featureless darkness, Adrian worried more and more about his friends. It occurred to him that if by some horrible turn of events they were unable to return that he would be left in here forever, trapped in the magical cage, in the secret Belmont Hold that nobody in the world knew was there. Trapped for eternity to starve and desiccate alone.

“They will come back for me,” he said to nobody.

There was no answer in the dark but the sound of his stomach growling.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	11. Part Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a beast. I did not want to break it up. Enjoy!

**Part Eleven**

Sypha and Trevor did not return before dark. The only indication that Adrian had of the time was his own senses, but as the hours slipped by he knew that the day had come and gone, and there was no sign of them. He was worried, but he knew that it could take time for Trevor to fulfill his hunting request, and he did not know how far they needed to travel to access the flowers which were necessary for the potion. It was reasonable that they would need until the next day to complete their mission. He reminded himself that they were both very strong and capable; they would be fine. They would come back. They were not going to leave him alone in this place forever.

Time is a funny thing. It goes so fast – days fly by into weeks, and weeks into years. Years soon pass into decades, and Adrian knew that for him those decades would eventually pass into centuries and so on. But time has a way of slowing to an absolute crawl when one is waiting for something. It becomes more and more difficult to really gauge how long something has taken, or how long one has been waiting in the dark. A minute can feel like an hour, and an hour can stretch on and on and on. Adrian was an incredibly patient person; he was good at waiting and still better at keeping himself occupied if he needed to spend a long stretch of time waiting. He was level headed, practical, reasonable. He knew that he had to be patient.

It was very important that he did not let his fear and doubt begin to overtake his reason. He had known from the moment the stone had sealed him into the Hold that he was essentially in an underground tomb that might not be opened again for centuries if Trevor and Sypha didn’t come back. Even if only Sypha didn’t come back, because Trevor could not perform magic and therefore could do nothing to open the Hold. So Adrian waited patiently, and quietly, and ignored his nagging fear.

But time has a way of wearing even the most resilient person down. Combined with hunger, that effect is increased. Hunger is far less tolerable than time for a vampire, even a half vampire. Adrian had thought that by the time Trevor and Sypha had left the Hold that his hunger had already essentially peaked. He knew his body was desiccating from starvation, poison, and the attempt to constantly regenerate itself. He thought that he was handling it very well. He had resisted his instincts and his ravenous need for blood even when Sypha had offered for him to drink directly from her. He had never been willingly offered blood by a human before. He had been secretly proud of himself for being able to resist that offer, because it made him better than other vampires. It made him less of a monster, less of an animal. Truthfully, he had always thought of himself that way. Perhaps it was a trait he’d picked up from his father. Perhaps it was because Dracula _was_ his father that he had always privately believed that he was more than them, better than those hedonistic creatures who roamed the Earth in search of blood and power and control. He prided himself on being set apart from them. His partial humanity made him feel like he was somehow above them, even though he was actually looked down on in vampire society because of it. They were fools – he knew better than they did. He was exceptional, half human, the Son of Dracula, he was a prince. He had more pride than he had ever bothered to acknowledge, so when he had refused Sypha he had been empowered by resisting his baser instincts.

His pride was a poor companion in the ever growing span of time that persisted relentlessly as he waited in the dark. He thought that it certainly must have gone past the point of a single day, but with no way of measuring it he was unable to be sure. He could sense his body getting weaker; the tiny bit of nourishment had been completely used up within the first hours. Some of his injuries _did_ heal a bit more. The bone in his leg seemed to be doing alright, and eventually he lost his patience with the splint and tore it off, wondering if he might be able to eat the leather belts before throwing them down in frustration and finally letting out a scream of anger at his predicament. Anger was easier than fear. It masked the fear, albeit thinly. He didn’t care how dizzy he was, or how much every part of him hurt. He used one of the splints like a crutch and got to his feet, spending hours pacing around the tiny cage, counting his steps to try and keep his mind busy. He eventually grew too weak to stand, his head spinning from the starvation. He sat down in the middle of the cage again, drumming his claws on the stones. It had to have been more than two days, maybe three by now. What had happened? When were they going to return? Maybe he could try his bat form, or the mist. He attempted to summon one of these shapes on the off chance that he could somehow escape through them, but he was too feeble to even call his sword, and there was no chance of using these other abilities without blood in his system.

He tried to exit the cage once, rushing at the hole in the bars, hoping that if he could just get through that the spell that bound him would cease to have effect. He suspected that if he exited the spelled area entirely it might negate the effect of the magic. Of course he knew before he tried that it was a futile effort, and only succeeded in making horrible fire engulf the arm that he managed to force out before he collapsed against the bars and dragged himself back away from the spell’s weakening effects. He also tried using the sword to damage the bars. At first he thought that it might actually work, but the magical estoc was heavy and he was having difficulty wielding it without his normal strength. He struck as hard as he could, sending a clanging vibration along its length and into his hands. It rattled him to the teeth. The long blade wavered in his double-fisted grasp and clattered to the stones. He even tried scraping it over the engraved spell, but he could not damage the inscriptions, and in the absolute dark he couldn’t see where they were clearly enough to target them. It was not going to work. He finally re-sheathed the weapon and laid it with his few possessions, not wanting to damage the blade. His legs were trembling from weakness, but that didn’t matter. His broken tibia screamed every time he put weight on it, as all his other injuries burned and protested when he abused them with his movements. Finally in a last and most desperate bid to escape he attempted to literally claw his way through the floor of the cage. The stones couldn't be that thick – there were other floors beneath this one. If he could find purchase in one of the cracks and slowly chip his way through maybe he could fall to the next floor and be free of the cage that way. He spent hours at this, using his claws to pick and dig at the tiny cracks between the stones, trying to damage them. He did manage to make some scratches, but his nails ground down to to nubs long before he had made any kind of progress. Finally he gave up, laying face down on the floor of his prison and screaming in agony and helpless fury. Tears tracked down his cheeks, he beat on the floor, tried again to throw himself at the bars, and in the end he was just as trapped as he had been the entire time, only much _much_ hungrier.

He rolled on his back and laid there for many hours, unmoving, listening to the slow beating of his own heart. It was getting slower, he thought. Or maybe he was just losing his ability to judge how long passed between each beat. He drifted in some place between wakefulness and sleep, not really sure if he was conscious or not. He lost himself in memories, sometimes being a child in the castle, his mother teaching him how to dress neatly and how to comb his hair, his father closing an approving hand on his shoulder when he succeeded in cooking something delicious for the first time. The man had a great appreciation for finery and food was no exception. If something was worth learning, it was worth learning how to do it well, he had said many times. Sometimes Adrian would see himself battling his father again. His sorrow and pain and hopelessness hung over him; his blackness was swallowing him without Lisa to temper it. It had been hard to see such brilliant creature be reduced to a shadow of his former self, and he still wondered if all of this – the war on humanity – was just an elaborate plan to get Adrian to kill him so he could take his place in the castle. He suspected it was, because the heart had gone from Dracula. Adrian knew that better than anyone; he was the only person alive who knew that there had been a heart there to begin with.

His visions and memories eventually settled over Trevor and Sypha, his friends, his comrades. His companions. Sypha had believed in him before she even knew he was real. She had thought him some God-like saviour and had nearly given her life attempting to find him and waken him. She had an infections smile, and she never backed down from a challenge. She had proven herself over and over, and she had touched him in a way that made him realize that there was so much more to her. He had only started to scratch the surface of Sypha. He saw she and Trevor together once more, like they had been that morning before they left the inn. She had been stretched over that little desk begging Trevor to fuck her harder, deeper, faster. She had wanted his violence, he had choked her and it had made her come. Adrian didn’t even know what made a person want something like that. He wished he had more time with them – time to understand, to discover. He wanted to know her body, he wanted to smell her and taste between her legs, to enter her and give her pleasure like Trevor had. Trevor… Adrian’s heart clenched as he thought on the man, the same image of that morning flying past his eyes as though he was really there. He could hear the desk hitting the wall, he could see the clenched teeth and the muscles in his back moving as his body worked. He was both savage and attentive to her, taking his pleasure in her by force, which she seemed to both want and enjoy immensely. He’d bitten her, just like he’d bitten Adrian when they had fooled around by the lake. Not a real bite, not like a vampire, but for pleasure – something Adrian didn’t fully understand yet but wished he could. Trevor was as strong as he was sad, he was deeply angry for what the church had done to his family, and he had survived on his own for years simply by his own sheer determination. Trevor never lost a fight. He never passed up a drink. He had told Adrian he was pretty…

The tears leaking from his eyes eventually dried up, and when he cried nothing more came out.

His mind drifted, confusion and hunger winning out over the hallucinations of times past. He truly had no idea how long it had been now. Weeks? A month? A year? He was no longer able to get up, nor to shift himself into a more comfortable position. His heart had slowed, beating only infrequently, and he thought he could feel his veins collapsing on themselves, the capillaries that fed his extremities drying up, his skin now sinking and pulling so tight that he thought it had torn away in some places. He couldn’t easily open his eyes anymore. They were sunken, his beautiful body was long since an unrecognizable horror. He remembered very clearly the many desiccated and suffering prisoners in the castle dungeon; the young ones had not lasted very long before they dried up. Adrian was very young in vampire terms.

He was still aware, however. Barely, and only in patches, but he was still able to feel his enormous, monstrous hunger as though it were the very thing that kept him alive, and he was able to drift in his thoughts. Trevor and Sypha were not coming back. They had gone, and they had not returned. He initially believed that they wanted to come back, but in his isolation he began to imagine that they didn’t, that they had discovered that it was easier without him. Maybe they had never wanted to share with him in the first place, maybe they had regretted it, or had been unhappy with him. His rational mind knew that made no sense and was not true, but the self-pity became easier as he got weaker, and it became harder to remember which things were facts and which were his own musings.

It was easier to imagine that they had chosen to leave than the more likely scenario, that one or both of them had been killed and the reason they never came back was that they couldn’t. That they were dead, rotting away like he was, except actually dead. Even in his present state Adrian could feel the fear and sorrow that came with those thoughts. It tore at him, the guilt that they had gone out to get things to help him, they had been put in danger because of him. He could not protect them, and they were dead because he had needed their help. Stupid Belmont Hold. Stupid night creatures. Stupid cage that he would never escape. Stupid hunger.

Eventually everything just came back to hunger. It got to the point that he began to think and dream only of red, of blood. His personal thoughts and feelings started to fade and an all-encompassing thirst was all that was left. Everything became blood. Killing, tearing into living flesh, ripping out hearts. The violence of these fantastical hallucinations intensified until he forgot everything else and spent every moment trapped in an endless and repeating obsession with his appetite. He lost himself in it, and it was almost a relief after spending so long alone and miserable and hurting. He fought it at first, but what was the point? He was never getting out of here, so it didn’t seem to matter if he let the fantasies of killing overtake his more rational thoughts. It was a coping mechanism. It was the only way he could continue to exist. His humanity was pushed further and further into a diminutive space at the back of his mind, kept safe and cushioned from further damage by the ravenous demon that turned all the rest of this thoughts to feeding.

In reality, it had been fourteen days. Adrian’s body had desiccated at a vastly accelerated pace because of the poison and the injuries that it could not heal. The poison was injuring him over and over, and the wasting which would have taken several months or longer without this effect had occurred very rapidly.

Finally something happened. There was a scraping noise as the stone far above moved aside and the change in the air current brought the scent of outside air rushing in along with the smell of animals and blood. The scent of Trevor and Sypha was there too, rushing down into the Hold where Adrian lay.

He had been drifting, sleeping, when his body became aware of the disturbance. Unconsciously he snarled, his claws twitching. He heard a huge noise, voices, a cacophony coming down the stairs, animal screams. He thought he was dreaming, as he had dreamed so many times of them returning, and fantasized that he was drinking, filling himself. But he was not imagining the smashing din that came down the stairs and he was jerked from his restful state when the door to the Hold slammed open on its hinges and the dim light from beyond blinded him against seeing what was in the doorway.

“Adrian!” came both voices together, Sypha’s and Trevor’s. Behind them was a commotion, but he could not rise to see what it was. He remained still, his ability to move having deserted him a few days past. He squinted into the light, not sure if this was really happening or not.

“Adrian?” That was Sypha, her voice filled with worry. “Adrian can you hear me?”

He could hear her voice, but his rationality was locked away in a tiny corner of his mind. Thirst ruled him now. The same monstrous thing that had kept him alive throughout this entire ordeal had taken charge of his body. He hissed, trying to make some kind of words, but not having much success. The smell of blood was overwhelming, it was making his mouth tingle, it was pulling him from his still, unmoving state, making his body twitch. Visions of rending flesh and soaking himself in blood clouded over any intelligent thoughts he might have had.

Behind Sypha, on the other side of the door there was a deep snarling, and then Trevor’s voice shouting some kind of insult, and then a bunch of crashing noises.

“Adrian I don’t know if you can hear me or not. I’m sorry we were gone for so long, but I have some very good news. I found a way to lift the spell on the cage, and we also made the antidote for the poison. We brought you food. I… Trevor warned me that you might be like this, but also that I should be careful going in the cage before you get something to eat, so we brought more than one thing. Can you hear me?”

He had been listening to her words but he was having trouble with the meaning when the blood smell and the sounds of heartbeats were so overwhelming. He tried to formulate a response which he was fairly certain came out as a feral growl. Understanding her was not going especially well.

“Sypha don’t you dare go in that cage just yet. Remember what I told you!” Trevor’s voice was far away, still on the other side of the door with the cacophony of animal noises and smashing sounds behind him.

Adrian’s eyes were open now, a deep and luminous red glowing in the dark of the Hold. There was a blinding flash and Sypha illuminated several of the lanterns, washing everything in firelight. He hissed again, cringing at the brightness and feeling confused as to what was happening. His body curled in on itself, a skeletal wraith in the middle of the cage. Sypha gasped.

“Oh Adrian, oh I’m so sorry, we tried to get back sooner… here,” and then something alive and warm was being pressed through the bars beside his head. He heard a tiny heart fluttering madly and his body reacted completely beyond his conscious control. His claws seized the small furred thing and he savagely tore its head completely off, forcing the open and bleeding neck hole into his mouth, animal noises coming from him as he devoured it, breaking its tiny bones against his mouth, finishing whatever it had been in seconds. It was enough to renew his mobility. He flew at the bars, snarling, snapping his teeth. There was more, he could hear the little hearts beating in terror, small animals of some kind, appetizers. The spell activated when he touched the bars, weakening him, making him fall back to the floor. Heedless of it he lunged again, claws sinking into the next small thing that was pushed through and repeating the same process. He tore its chest open, eating its heart whole and burying his face in the small body, devouring what he could. When there as no more to be taken from it he threw that aside as well and then he paused, a sense of awareness coming back to him as the blood immediately began to restore the most basic functions, his heartbeat speeding up, his body regaining movement and strength. He blinked several times, trying to process the overwhelming rush of warmth that flooded him from the two little rabbits he’d been given. He was so hungry, he needed more, he couldn’t think straight. His body screamed, some terrible thing inside him wakening for the first time in his existence. He wanted to kill something more than he had ever wanted anything and there were more heartbeats nearby. He crouched, baring his bloodied teeth and squinting in the light.

Beyond the doorway there was another series of crashing noises and then it grew quiet and Trevor came into the Hold, panting, covered in bloody scratches and soaked in sweat. He immediately went to the side of the cage and pushed Sypha back, out of reach even though it was safe because of the spell. “Be careful, Syph, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Its alright Trev, he just needs more. You were right to bring these little ones to start. He’s like an animal… I don’t think he even knows its us.”

Adrian heard her voice, he blinked in confusion, listening to the sound of Sypha speaking to him intently, but still mostly just hearing the little animals.

“Give him the goat, push it through the bigger hole. I think that might bring him back.”

There was a bleating noise, and a white creature was forced into the cage through the hole. Adrian jumped on it and sank his fangs into its throat immediately. This was a larger animal, its heartbeat was louder, the drumming taking almost a minute to finally slow and give out as he pulled blood from its body in greedy gulps. He tore it open, ripping meat and organs brutally from its freshly slain carcass and devouring them whole. He was panting, he was flushed, he felt alive for the first time in weeks. He could think again, his body was regenerating. He saw his skin begin to fill out, to firm up, he felt his strength returning, and with it rational thought. When he had taken what he could he slid to the floor, his eyes falling closed for a moment as the rush of sustenance flowed through his body and immediately began to regenerate him. His wounds started to heal and he licked his lips, eyes flickering open finally to see his two friends standing several paces back from the cage watching him. Trevor looked unsurprised. His expression was calculating, assessing. Sypha looked like she was going to puke. He stared at them for a long moment and finally he was able to stand up, still a little dizzy, and look at them through the bars.

“You-you came back,” he said slowly in amazement, tears pricking at he corners of his eyes, emotion overwhelming him. It was difficult to speak, the words hard to formulate. “You’re alive… you didn’t abandon m-me...” he hiccuped and began to cry, all the fear and sadness and misery he’d experienced in the last several weeks rushing back, the endless hours locked in darkness wondering if they were ever going to return, if they were dead, if they just didn’t care. He wiped his eyes, smearing blood everywhere, his body shaking as his sobs grew louder and more intense. Trevor and Sypha took a few steps closer, but they didn’t reach into the cage.

“Adrian,” Trevor said quietly, “I’m sorry, I knew it would be bad when we got back, that you would have suffered here. I knew what you would think, but there was nothing we could have done to get here faster. We’ll tell you about it, but first lets deal with this cage. I brought you a big animal, like you asked. Its in the hall.”

Adrian’s shoulders shook, he sniffled. He was so fucking hungry still, he was barely hanging on to his composure, but he was so relieved to see them that it took precedence for the moment. He wasn’t going to spend centuries locked in the dark. They had come back.

Sypha took another step closer, reaching a hand through the bars. Trevor stopped her, pulling her hand back quickly. “Just wait Syph. Just give him another second before you lose your hand,” he stepped closer, keeping Sypha behind him. He had something in his hand, the other ready to draw a dagger, just in case. “Adrian, we have the antidote to the poison. You have to drink it. Are you… are you good if I stick my hand in?”

Adrian stared at him for a second, his eyes still red, but they weren’t glowing anymore, He took a breath, very much aware of their hearts drumming and the larger one beyond the door. He was doing a little better now. He knew himself, he could actually speak and maintain a train of thought that wasn’t about killing something. He could resist ripping off Trevor’s hand if he stuck it in the cage now. “Yes,” he said when he was sure.

Trevor put his arm through the bars, a small glass vial in his hand. Adrian took it, smelling it and wrinkling his nose. His fingers left bloody smears on the glass. He looked back to Trevor. “It stinks.”

“Just drink it, you have no idea what we went through to get that.” Trevor said with fond exasperation. He was smiling now, pointedly ignoring the gory scene in the cage.

Adrian pulled the cork stopper from the vial and snorted at the disgusting scent, but he tipped the little thing into his mouth and swallowed the entire contents.

At first it just tasted terrible and he didn’t think anything was going to happen. Then a pleasant coldness began to spread out from his stomach, washing through him, cooling the burning that had been incessant for weeks. He slumped, sighing in relief as he was finally free of the horrible relentless fire in his veins. He felt his wounds immediately begin to heal faster, and even his hair was starting to grow back in, his scalp itching as it did. He let the vial fall to the floor, looking at his friends. The burning stopped. It worked. It feels better.”

Sypha nodded. “Good. I want to open the cage now, are you ready?”

He wanted to say yes right away but he paused, thinking carefully on whether he was actually alright. The savagery and intensity of his thirst in the last few minutes had been far greater than he had known possible and it had most certainly been beyond his control. He hadn’t been able to think properly through it. He still felt it, not very far beneath the surface – the desire to rip something apart – but it was not in complete control now. He was not an animal and he was not going to hurt Trevor or Sypha. He swallowed, thinking about whatever lay beyond the door, knowing he would need to find out quickly.

“More than ready Sypha. Please get me out of here,” he said when he was certain.

Trevor didn’t stop her now, he could see that Adrian had some control again. Beyond the door to the entry hall there was growling, and the noises of something heavy lurching around “Shit, I think it woke up again. Fuck you had better appreciate that thing.”

Sypha began chanting and as she did the bars of the cage glowed blue, brighter, brighter until the light was impossible to look at, then all at once the light simply cut off and stopped and Sypha lowered her hands, the magic dissipating.

“There. Its done, you can come out now.”

He almost didn’t believe it. He had spent so long in his prison he found it hard to imagine that a simple bit of chanting and light could render the spell inactive. That spell and the cage had broken him down, crushed him into nothing over the past two weeks. He had become something he had never known was within his capacity, he had sunk to the depraved level of an animal within these bars. He had lost all his dignity, his ability to take care of himself, his strength and his magic. He had essentially lost his mind. He had been reduced to nothing in this cage, and he still reeled from the effects. He expected it would take him a long time to feel whole again after having so much stripped away by helplessness and starvation. He had not believed that he could be what it had made him, but the impenetrable walls had forced him to face the most horrible parts of himself in a stark and unforgiving light. He took a tentative step towards the opening in the bars, not really believing that he would be able to pass through them. He noticed that the engraved writing of the spell was no longer there, and that renewed his confidence. He stuck his hand out, still expecting the spell to drop him to his knees.

Nothing happened. He didn’t weaken, he didn't sag to the floor. He was free. It was real.

He immediately raced from the cage, not taking a chance that it was too good to be true. He reappeared on the other side of the bars, staring at the hateful box in disbelief. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself now. He was still feeling very dangerous, still not free of the ravenous hunger. His reddened eyes flit from the cage to Trevor and Sypha, their heartbeats filling his ears, his mouth watering. No. No he knew better than that. They were his friends. Trevor pushed Sypha behind him, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

“Adrian. Don’t get all murder-y on us. I’d really prefer not to have to fight you right now,” Trevor spoke clearly and slowly, pinning him with an unwavering icy stare.

He blinked, remembering himself again. “S-sorry,” he whispered, sniffing, picking up on the animal scent from the other side of the door. He didn’t wait. He disappeared from in front of Trevor and Sypha at vampire speed, pushing open the door and slamming it shut behind him to find out what they had brought. He did not notice Trevor cracking the door and peering through, unable to help his curiosity.

He was not disappointed. There was a gigantic tawny coloured bear pacing around the lower landing, the stones rattling beneath its paws. It had blood on its muzzle, on the fur of its hindquarters. It was wounded, but still in mostly peak condition. When it saw Adrian materialize out of seemingly nowhere it roared, an enraged, pained, frightened noise. It had no idea what was happening, why it had been injured and dragged here. It was a majestic, incredible creature and it did not deserve to die. But something was going to have to die and better this than the two humans on the other side of the doorway.

Adrian wasted no time. He bared his fangs, claws extended and rounded on the creature, pinning it bodily to the wall so hard the bricks sunk in around it. The animal raged, roaring and thrashing against him. He was not able to bite through the thick loose skin of its throat. He had to slash it open with his claws, extending them as long as possible to manage. He had hunted large predators before, but never a bear. He was not prepared for the immense strength, and he was still recovering his own. He sank his face against the slash he had made, trying to find the vein buried deep beneath the skin. It was not an easy thing. How had Trevor managed to bring this thing here? Surely it could have killed him numerous times. The animal’s huge paw struck at him, its claws raking along his body, slicing through his still healing flesh and throwing him free. He tumbled to the floor, surprised that it had thrown him so easily. He redoubled his efforts, delivering two swift blows to the large head, hoping to knock it out. bear roared again and stumbled, slumping against the wall. It panted, growling as he approached.

He closed in on the animal when it stayed still for a few seconds, confident that it would not be able to strike him again. The claws had sunk deep, but he hardly felt the long gashes after everything else he had endured recently, and his body was singing with the pleasure of his returning strength and power now that he was free and the poison had been cleared away. He made good use of his speed, darting in again to the animal’s throat and slashing, hoping to deepen the initial wound. This time he managed to get through the incredibly thick defenses, and a river of red ran immediately over the light brown fur. He didn’t waste any time, throwing himself bodily into the bear again and slamming its head into the wall for good measure. This time it stilled, and didn’t move beneath him as he found the artery and closed his mouth over the hot spray. Torrents of blood burst into his mouth almost faster than he could swallow them, he was covered quickly, the smell of the animal’s fur and musk all around him as he finally satisfied the ripping hunger inside him.

He closed his eyes as the massive heart slowed, and he slowed as well, allowing the heart to push the blood into his mouth, not pulling, not wanting to kill it before he had as much as he could get. He was aware of the seemingly impossible way that his body could consume more than its own volume in blood and still thirst, but that was simply part of what he was. As the heart slowed and eventually stopped Adrian paused his feast to breathe, panting over the animal for several seconds, considering if it was enough. It was. For the moment he was fully sated. He rolled off of the bear and laid his head against the bricks as he felt his body regenerate at an incredible rate. His hair grew back, long, blonde, silky as it had always been. His face returned to its normal shape, his skin was no longer stretched over him so tightly, and it returned to its pale and almost luminous state, the translucency disappearing. He felt his strength redoubled, his musculature filling back out, the horrible wounds from which he had suffered for so long finally closing over, though he would be left with numerous scars. He didn’t think of that for the time being. He trembled at the sensation of all of his normal functions resuming as they should, and the dangerous, predatory quality of his thoughts eased, freeing him of the desire to kill and feed which had been so powerful minutes ago. He panted, his eyes closed, the warmth of the bear beside him, blood covering every inch of him. He almost fell asleep, his stomach was so full and warm, he felt so good, so alive. It was a lot all at once. He had tears in his eyes from the sheer overwhelming relief that the horror was finally over. He was free. He was ok. He was out of that fucking horrible cage.

He stiffened, thinking of one more thing he wanted to do before anything else. Strength coursed through him, he nearly trembled with it. He rose, floating, enjoying the feel of his power back under his control. He pushed back through the door, barely noticing Trevor jump out of his way. He glared at the cage. Sypha was staring at him in shock and fear, but he ignored her as well. He grabbed the thick, heavy structure by one of the bars and yanked it out of place. It was easy to manipulate now that he had his strength back. It broke through the door, smashing the wall on either side in a crash of rubble and dust. He flew with the horrible thing in hand up the central column of the rounded room, dragging the cage up, easily breaking through anything that got in the way. The thing just barely fit through the opening at the top of the Hold – they were nearly the same size. He yanked it free, flying high into the sky with the horrible offending thing in tow and hurled it with all of his might. It went sailing off into the forest, coming to rest almost a mile away with a distant crash. A flock of startled birds erupted from the nearby trees.

Satisfied, Adrian slowly returned to the earth, floating back down through the opening and into the pleasant darkness. He touched down beside the bear, glancing at it thankfully. There was still a huge amount of meat on the animal, as well as fat which could be rendered and put to use, and the huge thick pelt. It would not go to waste if possible, but right now he was content to leave it be. He allowed himself to relax fully, his feet settling on the ground. He took a breath and walked back into the now larger doorway to the main body of the Hold.

Trevor and Sypha were both standing off to the side, frozen in surprise and shock at everything which had just transpired. They eyed him nervously, neither of them daring to approach just yet. Even Trevor seemed to have momentarily forgotten his bravery and his protectiveness. He was just gaping at Adrian, evidently speechless.

He considered them briefly and walked silently past. He wasn’t ready for talking yet. He was filthy. He knew there was no denying or hiding any of what had just transpired. He had never expected to be in a position like this in his lifetime – he was still reeling from the terrifying experience and the way his condition had caused him to think and behave. He hadn’t yet come up with a way to handle the inevitable discussion that was going to transpire, but at the very least he would begin by cleaning himself. He could smell the water deeper in the Hold. Sypha had said there was a well. He floated down the many floors to it, pulling off his bloodied shredded shirt. He began drawing buckets of water and dumping them over himself to clear away the worst of the blood. After a few buckets he was cleaner, and he ran his fingers along his skin, through his hair – oh his hair, he was so happy that it had grown back – and scrubbed his face with his hands. He heard his friend's footsteps coming down the last of the stairs just as he was clean enough for his own satisfaction. He wanted to hide from them, to bolt, but he needed to face them. He couldn’t be a coward after everything they had been forced to do on his behalf.

Trevor and Sypha came off the bottom of the stairs and approached Adrian with some caution. He didn’t blame them – he knew he had been a sight. He met their blue stares with his own gold one, taking a step towards them.

“A-Adrian?” Sypha ventured uncertainly. “Are you… are you ok now?” he didn’t like the look in her eye – it reminded him of someone trying to determine whether a dog they’d encountered would bite.

He nodded, but couldn’t hold her gaze. He looked at his feet. Could she tell that he was scared too? Disturbed by himself, by the ferocity of his own nature? He was reeling still from everything that had transpired, just as they were. He had no idea where they had gone, why it had taken so long for them to come back. He knew whatever they’d had to do had been a challenge, but he had suffered that entire time alone in the dark, starved and tortured by horrible agonizing pain. He had endured more than any human alive could physically tolerate many times over and he was deeply frightened by what it had done to him. He felt his shoulders beginning to shake, and before he knew it he was sinking to his knees and crying again, much harder than before. His body shook with the force of the sobs. It was too much. Everything had been so awful, he had been alone in that fucking prison for weeks, and he had truly believed that it would go on for centuries. He was crying so hard he couldn't speak, couldn’t breathe.

He was draped in something warm and soft, which smelled strong and familiar. The fur cloak. Trevor knelt beside him, covering him gingerly with it. He shuddered harder at the tenderness of the gesture after all that had just transpired. It was despicable that they would be comforting him after it all, and yet he was so fragile that he couldn’t refuse being wrapped in it. Trevor put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his back gently. He expected him to say something, but he seemed to know that words wouldn’t help at the moment. On his other side Sypha came and knelt as well, her hand on his other shoulder, smoothing over him reassuringly. The absurdity of the whole thing was not lost on him, but he still needed them. He needed to touch them, he needed them near. He couldn’t stop crying. Eventually Trevor sat on the floor and pulled Adrian against him, and Sypha put her arms around his middle. They both held him tightly while he cried until he had no more tears and his sobs tapered off into the occasional hiccup. He still didn’t move, needing their warmth and their closeness.

Eventually Trevor’s arms loosened a bit. “There’s a few cots in the back of the lab. Its not much, but its better than sitting here on the stones, come on.”

Adrian shrank in on himself, still not willing to face them. Before he knew what was happening Trevor scooped him up and carried him through some rooms until they came to a small, long forgotten space with some very basic cots. Sypha pushed two of them together. They were dusty, but she spread a blanket over them and Trevor laid Adrian down on the soft surface. He climbed in beside him.

“I’m going to close the door, I’ll be right back,” Sypha said, and she gave them a few minutes. Maybe she wasn’t ready to be beside him just yet, or maybe it was only that the door needed to be closed to maintain their secure position in the Hold. He didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t ready to uncurl from his protective little ball of denial yet. He was amazed enough that they were back at all, and that they had seen him like that and were still treating him like a person. He knew he was going to have to face them eventually, but as long as nothing forced him he wasn’t going to move. Trevor stayed beside him, arms wrapped around him, one hand stroking his hair. He didn’t say a word. He could have fallen asleep, listening to the steady and reassuring drum of the hunter’s heart against him, but he would not let himself. He was still much too wrapped up in self-loathing to succumb to such a comfort.

Sypha came back after awhile, a few more blankets under her arm. She opened one of them over Adrian and Trevor, then came around to the other side of the little bed they had made and sat on the edge if it.

Adrian finally worked up the courage to relax marginally. He opened his eyes and looked at Sypha. She put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“It’ll be alright,” she said quietly.

He shivered and fought the urge to curl back up. He could see the mix of things behind her eyes, the lingering uncertainty. She wanted to comfort him, but she had seen him in a terrible state and it wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten. If she had tried to enter that cage before he’d regained control over himself he would surely have ripped her apart before she could so much as summon a fireball in defense. So much for being any different than the full vampires he had thought himself superior to. He gently moved his arm out of her grasp, glancing away. Trevor’s body against him was warm and firm, but he tried to pull out of his hold too, wrapping the fur more closely around himself and resuming his tightly coiled ball of misery. Trevor let him go, but he didn’t stop gently running his fingers though his hair.

“Want us to leave you here to rest for a bit?” Trevor asked him in a quiet voice.

He shook his head, suddenly terrified at the prospect of being alone again. He snaked a hand out from his little ball and clutched Trevor’s arm so he wouldn’t leave.

“Ow,” Trevor tried to pull his arm free. Adrian held it tighter, wrestling with his irrational panic. They couldn’t leave him alone right now. He couldn’t take it. “Hey relax, human arm here, not crush proof.”

That did the trick and he let go immediately, peering out at Trevor. He saw him rubbing his arm gingerly. There were white finger shaped marks on it where he’d grabbed him. He would probably end up with a nasty bruise.

“Shit you’re strong.”

“Sorry,” Adrian whispered, tucking his face against the bedding. It smelled old, dusty. He thought he was going to cry again. He needed to pull himself out of this pitiful spiral, it wasn’t fair to Sypha and Trevor, but he felt broken. He couldn’t stop playing it all out, the endless days laying alone in the dark wondering if he would ever see another person again, and then the horrible experience when they finally came back. He saw it over and over: Sypha coming in to the room and talking to him and his animal reaction. He hadn’t even been able to understand her words. All he had seen was prey, all he had thought was about killing, and the tiny part of his rational mind that had been struggling for control had been completely overtaken by the monster. It was easier to imagine it as two parts of a whole – a good and evil side, a demon within that had taken him over – but he didn’t know if that was right. Maybe there were no two parts. There was only one Adrian Tepes and that horror had been him the whole time, dormant, sleeping until it was unlocked by extreme circumstances. Could it happen again? He tried to picture that. He didn’t think it would – he didn’t feel anything like that now, nor had he ever before – but now he knew it was possible.

“Adrian we are so sorry that we took so long to come back. We never meant to leave you like that,” Sypha began before he could lose himself in his thoughts. She scooted a little closer, so her warmth was on his side. He had the fur cloak pulled so tight around him it was almost covering his head, the white hairs tickling his cheeks. The scent was so comforting, so reassuring. He could smell Trevor on it, and Sypha as well though more faintly, and he could smell Trevor’s blood and the bear’s, and a variety of other odours that had been picked up in the past weeks. He was warm between them, the comforting rhythm of their breathing reassuring him that they were actually there, that this wasn’t just his imagination. He was growing curious about the circumstances that had taken them away for so long and more than anything he wanted to know how Trevor had managed to catch a damned bear. That was most impressive (if not completely idiotic). When he had asked for a large animal he had imagined a deer or perhaps two of them, or a farm animal or something. Not a fucking bear. His friends had obviously taken his needs very seriously and had done everything in their power to help him, including somehow finding the ingredients for the potion and making it as well as discovering how to unlock the cage without having access to the resources of the Hold itself. That was an amazing feat. No wonder they had taken so much time. He needed to acknowledge all of that.

Adrian took a deep breath, inhaling all the comforting scents around him and resolving that he had spent long enough being afraid and sad and that it was time to be an adult and talk to Trevor and Sypha. He consciously relaxed his hunched shoulders, stretching his legs and forcibly uncurling his body. He sat up, resting his back against the wall behind the cots. Sypha gave him a small hopeful smile.

“I think I’m alright,” he said experimentally. Whether he was saying it to her or to himself he wasn’t entirely sure, but it was a start. They both looked at him.

“You saved me. I’m very grateful,” he said almost reverently, extending one hand to each of them. He laid his right palm in Sypha’s lap and his left over Trevor’s arm, stroking the now reddened area that he had accidentally grabbed too hard in his panic. He would have to be careful, his body was a little off balance after being weakened for so long and he hadn't realized he was clenching onto the hunter so hard. He felt terrible about it, but at least he hadn’t broken anything. He took a moment to really study them both now that he wasn’t using all of his concentration to stave off the abject panic that had been tearing at him. They were thinner, like they hadn’t eaten well in weeks. Sypha had a bad sunburn – her freckles were blazing over her cheeks – she smelled strongly of sweat and her robe was dirty, mud staining the bottom. There was a tear in her skirt. They both had bags under their eyes, their hair was greasy and had twigs and leaves tangled in it here and there. Trevor was banged up, he had scratches all over his arms and his favourite shirt was stained with sweat and blood, and torn in a few places. His cheeks had darkened to a deeper tan, indicating that he had spent a lot of time in the hot sun as well. His nose and the tops of his ears were red and peeling. His lip was split and scabbed over, still oozing sluggishly.

They both looked terrible and exhausted.

“What happened to you guys?” he asked, looking between them.

Trevor gave him a tired grin. “Well, we _have_ been living in the woods for the better part of two weeks. And you may have noticed the fucking _bear_.”

“I did.”

“Well believe it or not that was not the easiest animal to persuade to follow us home.”

“I don’t imagine it was,” Adrian said with a small smile.

He could see that Trevor was weary, he was fighting exhaustion. It felt so good to talk to them; he needed the familiar banter, the undertone of humour. He closed his eyes and pulled Trevor into a hug, careful not to crush him too hard. Indeed he felt thinner, leaner, but he was alive. He was real. He paused in his hug to wrap an arm around Sypha and drag her into his lap and into a tight three way embrace. They both felt so delicate in his arms he had to wonder if he was correctly judging his own strength. He snuggled his head against them until they both began to squirm to be let free. He didn’t let them go right away, he needed them close. He needed to believe it was real and no matter how many times he had already reminded himself it still felt like they would slip away and disappear if he let them go. Finally he felt Sypha tug on his hair.

“Can’t. Breathe.” She wheezed and he loosened his arms, letting them free. They both sucked in a few deep breaths. Sypha was now sitting between Adrian’s stretched legs, her back to his chest. He kissed her hair and ran his fingertips along her shoulder, reveling in her scent. He still had his arm around Trevor’s back. His hand carded through his hair absently.

“You both stink,” he said affectionately after another few minutes of enjoying them. Neither of them seemed to care; they looked like they were falling asleep against him. That sounded very nice. He wasn’t tired, but holding them while they napped a bit seemed like a very good plan right now. It would give him some time to sort his mind out and to simply appreciate their closeness. Trevor’s eyes were drooping beside him, and Sypha had picked up his free hand and was playing with his long fingers over her stomach, but he could hear her breathing slowing. “You both look exhausted, why don’t you rest a bit. This is nice, lets just stay like this for awhile.”

As if his words had released them of their obligation to wakefulness Adrian felt them both soften against him. Trevor’s head dipped forward. He adjusted his arm on the man’s shoulder, pulling the hunter against him so their heads were together. He was already asleep, and allowed himself to be pulled into the more comfortable position with only a small murmur. Sypha had gone slack in his lap, her body limp on his chest. She was still holding his hand.

Although he had already cried more today than most other days in his life, Adrian couldn’t help a few more tears slipping down his cheeks. He was so grateful, so amazed at them. He was so incredibly happy with them both in his arms. He was done being the victim. He didn’t need to be scared or weak or hungry anymore. Most importantly he didn’t need to be alone. He was with the two people who meant more to him than anyone else. He would protect them fiercely, with his life if need be just as they had done for him. As the minutes ticked by and he nuzzled them and kissed them he realized for the first time that he thought of them as more than just allies or comrades in arms. They weren’t only companions. They were his, and he wanted to be theirs. He realized that he was falling in love with both of them.

He didn’t sleep, but he stayed in the little cot for a long time simply soaking up their heat and their scent and thinking about his revelation. He didn’t let go of them the whole time.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrian is finally out of the cage and healed! Yay!!!


	12. Part Twelve

**Part Twelve**

Eventually he had to get up. As much as he wanted to remain indefinitely snuggled against Trevor and Sypha, Adrian knew that he would need to extricate himself from the comfortable tangle and put a few things in order. He could tell by how exhausted both of them were that they needed time to sleep, and he suspected that they also needed a decent meal. Or several. Fortunately he had a very large amount of bear meat that he could put to use for that purpose close at hand. He began to think about how best to approach that matter as he carefully wiggled free from the cots.

He supported Sypha’s frame, laying her on her back after he managed to get himself out from between them both. Trevor slumped sideways, so deeply asleep that he didn’t so much as stir. Adrian opted to simply shift him into a more comfortable position laying beside Sypha. He grunted quietly but didn’t move otherwise. They really were exhausted, it was even more apparent now that they were actually asleep. The past weeks had taken a real toll on them and he was very curious as to what had actually transpired. They were both accustomed to traveling and it was surprising to him that they looked so beat up. Had they become spoiled by his hunting for them, or was it a product of unfavourable conditions? He could not help but kiss each of their faces numerous times, peppering their cheeks and stroking their hair. He felt like he had something precious that he needed to guard carefully or it would slip away. The panic over what had happened had receded marginally but he still felt like he had to keep very close eye on them lest they disappear. He couldn’t stop smelling them. It was instinctual, it was soothing and seemed to reinforce the certainty that he was not dreaming. Finally he forced himself to leave them sleep while he attended to other matters.

Firstly he needed something to wear. Trevor’s cloak was a pleasure, but did not pass for real clothes no matter how much he liked the feel of it swishing around his bare hips when he moved. He realized with some disdain that virtually everything he owned was destroyed save his sword. While he was not exactly materialistic, he had a decent appreciation for nice clothing, good workmanship, and soft textures. He missed his coat, and wondered what had ever happened to his boots and gloves. Perhaps some of what was left could be salvaged? He would have to brave the gory scene left at the Hold’s entrance to find out. He decided to keep the cloak for the time being until he could find something else. He wasn’t ready to examine the lasting damage to himself yet – the idea of even more scars marring his flesh was enough to make him sick.

He came upon the mess where the cage had once been and cringed, remembering well all the horrors which had transpired in that rectangle of Hell. The stones were now coated many times over in blood and the mangled remains of several animals. He focused on what mattered. It wouldn’t do any good to relive it again, and it was no help to keep looking at the disaster and recalling the feeling of bones between his teeth snapping like so many twigs. He gathered up his pack in the hopes that some of the contents could be cleaned. He collected his sword, his remaining clothing, and anything else of use and ferried all of it down to the lower floors which were the most accommodating part of the massive Hold. He found the clothes he’d asked Trevor to clean laid out over a railing. He was surprised that the hunter had actually rinsed them and made some attempt to salvage them. His gloves and boots were among those items and seemed like they might be alright after some extra attention. Adrian spent some time soaking and rinsing everything he could, scrubbing away as much of the mess as possible. In the end he was not able to make a whole outfit. He had spare breeches from his pack which were fine, but no shirt, and the tattered remains of his coat were just not going to be saved no matter how many times he tried to get the blood out of the pale gold silk. He finally accepted that he would need to replace it and moved on to his next task. He donned his belt and boots and left the rest in a heap. He caught sight of the marks on his torso in the corner of his eye but refused to look any closer as panic loomed threateningly at the thought of bearing such disfigurements. Denial was a much more comforting prospect for now. He hunted through the Hold for something to cover himself, eventually finding some clothing tucked away into an old chest, all of it embroidered with the Belmont insignia. He resigned himself to a stiff linen shirt that he thought Trevor would probably wear with pride. It would have to do for now.

The well where they were getting fresh water for drinking and washing was at the very lowest part of the Hold. A small corridor wound away beyond it and into the dark. Intrigued, Adrian listened carefully for several moments. He heard dripping, and echoes, and the faintest brush of the air moving through the tunnel. He grabbed a torch and followed the path into the darkness, the walls closing around him until the tunnel was only wide enough for a single person to pass through and he had to duck his head. He expected it to taper off into nothing but was quite surprised when it suddenly opened into another large space – an underground cavern. This was not man-made; it was a natural cave. His footsteps echoed loudly in the space and he saw the source of the dripping – water falling a few drops at a time into a circular pool in the middle of the cavern. The cool dry air of the Hold was being sucked into this warmer, more humid space. There must be another opening somewhere that was creating the negative air pressure or the Hold itself would have been a damp mouldy mess after all of this time. He raised the torch, illuminating a very tall ceiling made almost entirely of crystallized minerals.

He began to formulate a wonderful idea and spent a little longer searching the cavern, familiarizing himself with it and the path he’d used to find it. There was another opening on the far side which sloped upwards and widened – a traversable path. The current of hot moist air whooshed up this path. He flitted through the space and followed still more tunnels until he began to sense natural light. It couldn’t be. He left the torch perched between two stones and eventually emerged from the caves into a rocky area surrounded by thick forest. The view was incredible, stretching out before him for miles and miles of pristine, undisturbed wilderness. The ruined Belmont Estate loomed far past the trees behind the cave mouth, but it was not visible from the opening. Everything else around him was forest dotted with small lakes and the odd interconnecting stream. It was perfect. He knew what he wanted to do now.

Adrian spent the next several hours moving as fast as he could (which was _really_ fast) to accomplish everything he wanted to before Trevor and Sypha finally woke. He made good use of his preternatural gifts, going back and forth several times between the Hold and his newly discovered path. He searched the entire Hold as well as the Estate above it as thoroughly as he could to find what he needed. He was missing certain things, but he made due and for the most part was quite satisfied by his accomplishments. It was a good distraction; pushing himself and keeping occupied provided temporary relief from his thoughts. Finally he returned to the small room at the back of the laboratory where he had left Trevor and Sypha asleep.

He peered at them reverently, crawling onto the cots and sitting cross-legged at their feet. They had curled together in slumber adorably, Sypha’s arm over Trevor’s chest, and Trevor’s arm around her back, pulling her against his body. Adrian felt like the luckiest man in the world as he watched them with a small smile on his lips. He had missed touching them so much. Somehow the relatively brief period since they had become intimate with one another had become his new normal. He longed to be close to them, to continue to explore the physical relationship which had blossomed once he realized what they wanted. His body seemed to be disconnected from the trauma he had suffered; it wanted them and it didn’t pause to acknowledge that his head was full of doubts and confusion. It wanted to pick up exactly where they had left off.

He trailed his fingers over them, smoothing his hands over their feet and legs, avoiding the scrapes and cuts which both of them sported from traipsing through the forest, instead massaging the muscles of their calves, and their feet. He worked the appendages alternately between his hands, first one of Sypha’s feet, then one of Trevor’s. Slowly he felt them stirring.

“Mmmm” Sypha groaned, stretching and adjusting her position. Her eyes blinked sleepily, glittering in the light of the lanterns. Adrian had filled and lit many lanterns throughout the Hold to make it as comfortable as possible for them to see. He watched her silently, gently depositing her foot and smoothing his hands over Trevor’s, working his thumbs into the arch, gripping the heel firmly and massaging between his toes. Yes, they needed to bathe, they were sweaty and dirty, and he could smell it on them. He didn’t care. He wondered if it was normal to think that even their dirty feet somehow smelled good. Not _good_ exactly… it was only that it was part of them and he wanted any part that he could have, even that.

Trevor stirred after a moment, blinking in a lazy manner that said he really was not completely awake yet.

Adrian stayed quiet, feeling an odd flutter in his stomach at the prospect of being able to make them both feel good after all the things they had done for him. He kept working their feet until Sypha sat up and blinked owlishly at him.

“What are you doing?” she yawned.

“Appreciating you,” he answered softly with a small smile. Trevor’s eyes cleared as he wiped the sleep from them, looking down the length of his body at Adrian attending his bare foot. Adrian dipped and planted a kiss on the top of each of Trevor’s feet, then Sypha’s. Their eyes followed him, watching him lower his head, his long hair pooling around their legs. His cheeks warmed. Sypha bent towards him and carded her fingers through his hair. His eyes fell shut and he leaned into her hand, letting her fingers work against his scalp. It was real. They were real. They were here and they could touch each other again and there was no cage separating them, no pain wracking his body, no animal hunger tearing his mind apart. He still couldn’t stop repeating it to himself. He wished he could communicate his relief somehow but there were no words that could really express what he was feeling.

“What time is it?” Trevor said, scratching his beard. “How long were we asleep? I feel like I got run over by a wagon,” he punctuated this by stretching his shoulder, grunting in discomfort.

“I believe it was a bear,” Adrian commented with a little smirk, hopping off the bed. “Get up. You’ve been sleeping for hours. You must be hungry and you are both filthy. I have a surprise for you. Follow me.”

They both did as he asked, rising stiffly from the cots. Trevor gave him an odd look. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Adrian had raided everything he could find in the Hold, and had managed to come up with some extra clothes even though they weren’t to his taste. He did not want to go around half naked – his horribly scarred body bothered him deeply and he really did not want Trevor and Sypha to see him too closely just yet. He didn’t want to see it himself. So the chest of old clothing had been a better option than nothing, and he was now wearing a scratchy linen tunic with a Belmont family crest embroidered on the left upper corner. “I found it in a chest of clothes, mine are ruined. We will have to circle back to a larger town where I can get something new soon, but for now it will service.”

“Looks really weird to see you in that,” Trevor commented, “Especially after all the love you were showing Belmonts when we got here.”

Adrian scoffed, “I have no more love for Belmonts than I did before, I just needed a shirt.”

“Oh please don’t start,” Sypha warned, “We’ve been apart all this time, can’t you stop picking at one another for five minutes?”

“Are you hungry?” Adrian interjected as he led the pair out of the lab. A succulent scent was wafting from the next floor. He slowly made his way up the stairs, turning to glance at them both as they obediently followed.

“Something smells _really_ good,” Sypha said when she caught wind of it. Adrian would be able to hear her stomach growling from across the Hold.

“We are literally starving,” Trevor added, nostrils flaring as he picked up the scent.

There was candlelight coming from the room he approached – more of an alcove that branched off of one of the main corridors – and the delicious smells of roasting meat. He stood aside, letting them walk into the room first so they could see what he had prepared.

He had done his best with what was available between the bear meat, the things he found in the Hold (not much, but there had been salt and a few dried herbs and other things) and what he had been able to forage from the nearby forest and lakes. He was actually very skilled in identifying wild plants and edibles. Foraging was something that his mother had taught him about because many plants and fungi had medicinal properties. It was important to have a thorough understanding of different plants in order to better recognize which ones were beneficial. A companion to that knowledge was the ability to identify which things were edible and how they could be harvested. Adrian had been successful in finding several species of edible nuts and berries, apples, fresh herbs including rosemary and chive, wild leafy greens, some small pearly onions, tuberous roots and even some flowers which he knew were palatable. He had painstakingly selected the best cuts of meat from the bear and had used them to prepare a feast which was now spread on an old table with three mismatched chairs from around the Hold pulled up to it. Several candles flickered on the table, and a few wall sconces had been lit, drenching the alcove in a warm glow which cast dancing shadows off of the spines of books that lined the walls.

The offerings were presented in an assortment of strange dishes; it had taken some real work to ransack the remains of the Estate for three plates that weren’t broken to eat off of, and some silverware. Cooking the meal itself without a proper kitchen had been interesting. He’d had to make due once again with what he could salvage or what they had on hand, or in some cases weird decorative items which were not meant to actually be used. He had utilized them anyway, ornamental nature be damned. It wasn’t perfect, but it was miles above cold cheese and stale tack. There was no bread, as he hadn’t any flour, and no butter, but there was bear fat to cook with and it lent a nice flavour to everything. He had prepared a soup with herbs and meat and the small potatoes that had long since gone wild and reseeded in the old Estate gardens. Many of the things he found had been there, including the onions and some skinny carrots. It had taken him a good while to get the dirt out from under his nails after he’d spent such a long time crawling around in it digging up one random thing at a time for this meal. All the while he’d been smoking the rest of the bear meat so they could take it with them on their travels, and he’d stretched the hide as well, and hoped it could eventually be used for a cloak or bedroll. It was very fortunate that he had vampire speed on his side or it would have taken him days to accomplish everything he’d done that afternoon.

The soup was accompanied by a large dish (actually it was an upturned shield) that was laden with a small roast and the other root vegetables which had been cooked in the embers of a fire. They glistened in the candlelight. There was a saucer piled with blueberries and raspberries that was topped with violets, and a salad of mixed greens, walnuts and sliced apples. He had managed to secure an odd assortment of glassware from the displays around the Hold and there was a bottle of wine on the table, the green glass looking black in the candle’s glow. The wine had been easier; there was a whole cellar buried under the rubble of the Estate – he’d only needed to lift away some large boulders to access it – and he’d discovered a few still unbroken bottles that had lasted through the years. The first one he had opened had not been good, the cork had rotted and it had turned to a foul syrupy mess, but he’d been luckier with the second, and there was a third that he’d tucked away for another time when Trevor got especially annoying.

To say that he was rather proud of himself was an understatement. Adrian knew he’d outdone himself. He stood aside with a knowing smile as Trevor and Sypha entered the room and both their jaws dropped.

“What in the actual fuck Adrian? How did you do all of this?” Trevor just stared, frozen in shock as the feast came into view. Sypha clapped her hands with glee and threw her arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek and moving closer to the table to inspect the assortment of foods.

“I was resourceful,” he said on his own behalf, darting with vampire speed to pull out a chair for Sypha before she could do it herself. It was his intention to be an absolute gentleman and to make them both feel pampered. She grinned at him and sat down, her eyes still taking it all in.

“Resourceful? This is impossible. Oh God, there’s wine...” Trevor swallowed thickly, still just staring at it all. Adrian put a hand on the small of his back and guided him to a chair, pulling it out for him as he sat in it, still wearing that stunned look. He pushed the chair in and deftly snatched up the wine bottle, pouring Trevor a generous serving in an overwrought chalice that probably came from a tabernacle somewhere. He poured another for Sypha, her vessel being an ornamental crystal goblet he’d found in a glass case full of shiny relics. He set the bottle down and took a moment to kiss both of them on the cheek before taking his own seat.

“I wanted to thank you both for everything you did for me. I… I know it was difficult. I can see that you struggled and that the time took a toll on you both. There was such a large amount of meat left from the animal you brought me that I couldn’t let it to go to waste. The rest of the meat is smoking, but much of it can’t be preserved and I cannot possibly eat all of it myself.”

As they talked they began to settle, everyone loading their plates with a variety of foods. Trevor took a long, grateful swallow from his cup, sighing in pleasure. “This is the best thing I have ever tasted,” he said seriously.

Adrian raised a brow. “I guess I should have forgone the meal and just brought you the bottle.”

He was met with a guilty look. “No! No I didn’t mean it like that, Its just I never expected… its been a long couple of weeks.”

Sypha laughed into her glass as she took a sip in between bites.

Adrian watched them for a few minutes until he was satisfied that everything was good, then he started to eat as well, selecting a little of everything. He was burning with curiosity and he could not contain his questions for very long.

“So… I would very much like to know what transpired between the time you left the Hold and the time you returned. You both seem like you haven’t been eating well, you’re scratched and dirty and your clothes are ripped. What happened?”

Sypha seemed to realize then that she was in fact filthy, and she put a hand to her hair, pulling a leaf out of it. “Er, we had a bit of a difficult time but its nothing compared to what you had to go through.”

Trevor snorted. “It was shit. Obviously not the same shit, but still shit.”

Adrian paused, remembering only too well his own experience during their absence. It really had not left his mind at all since they’d returned. He was haunted by the whole thing and was still having difficulty believing it was over. It would only take a tiny nudge to send him right back to dwelling on it, which he was determined not to do. “Why did it take so long for you to come back?”

Sypha sighed, pausing her meal to pin Adrian with an apologetic expression. “It was the flower. We couldn’t find it anywhere. When we left the Hold the first thing we did was go to the Belmont graveyard. Trevor knew where it was. It took about an hour to ride there but when we found it we realized that it had been destroyed when the family was excommunicated. The church pulled down all the headstones and had burned everything. I guess even the dead Belmonts weren’t allowed to rest in peace after the whole family had been banished. There was no sign of the plant that we were looking for and we didn’t know where else we could find it. So we decided to take the horses and try to go to the next town, in hopes that the plant might grow on some of the graves there. Trevor thought it was a few days ride. On the second evening we were attacked by night creatures. We were able to defeat them and get away, but we lost our food stores and our packs when the horses bolted, and we found both of them killed. That is what slowed us down. It took much longer to walk than it would have on horseback. It was three more days before we found the nearest village.”

Trevor chimed in, speaking around the large bite of bear meat he was chewing. “When we got to the village we met a few locals. They weren’t exactly friendly, probably because we were torn up and filthy and had no coins. They thought we were beggars. We did manage to find the graveyard though, and thank fuck the flowers were growing there. We started picking them and a lady came up to us and asked us what we were doing. She had recognized the crest on my tunic and knew I was a Belmont. I thought we were going to be driven out but it turns out she used to know my family and didn’t believe they were black magicians. She asked us if we needed a place to stay so we went to her cottage, which was on the outskirts of the town. She was a wise woman, medicine woman, witch, whatever. She had a bunch of weird animal parts and dried plants hanging around her cottage. A little creepy for my tastes but we weren’t in a position to refuse the hospitality. She and Sypha hit it off. I barely said a thing the whole time and those two never stopped talking. She made us tea that tasted like dirt- ow!” Trevor winced as Sypha smacked him in the back of the head.

“Trevor! Her name is Hana, and she was a huge help. She knew a lot about magic, and about making potions and medicine. She helped me to make the potion out of the flowers from the graveyard, and she also gave me an idea for how I could negate the spell on the cage, although we didn’t tell her too many details. I had memorized the spell engraved on the bars. We looked at it together and she suggested a spell used to smooth or polish metal might make it lose effect. Essentially all I did was remove the engravings. It was a very good idea and I would not have thought of it myself. We stayed with her that night-”

“We slept in her barn Syph.”

“It was better than sleeping outside,” Sypha shot Trevor an exasperated look and he shrugged, unconvinced.

“I like it outside.”

“Then maybe you would prefer to sleep there tonight. She gave us breakfast the next day and we got ready to leave. Trevor stole one of her goats-”

“We needed an animal,” Trevor said to her as justification.

“It was still wrong. She was kind to us and we stole from her.”

“I warned you that we were gonna need a lot when we got back here, especially after taking so long. _He_ seemed to appreciate it,” Trevor jerked a thumb at Adrian, who had been listening to the story in between bites of his meal. He stilled when the conversation turned on him, blinking uncomfortably. Bringing up what had transpired when they returned was the last thing he wanted. Before the incident with the cage he would never have allowed anyone to witness him satisfying his appetite for blood. It was a private matter that did not concern his human companions. “It was… appreciated,” he said slowly, frowning into his plate.

“See?” Trevor said with a grin, ignoring Adrian’s squirming. “Appreciated. Anyway, by the time we left it had already been six days since we’d gone to look for the flowers. We knew it was going to be really hard on you. We knew we needed to get back as soon as we could and I was going to go try and hunt something else after we saw you again. We had no horses, and we hadn’t been able to get more than a small bit of bread for our trip back which was going take a week. I set snares each night to catch some food and Sypha foraged for anything edible. That combined with goat milk was all we had to live on in that time. The rabbits we brought back with us were the ones that didn’t get killed immediately in the snares. I knew you were going to need more than a single goat after so long,” he flicked his gaze up to meet Adrian’s in acknowledgment of just how long it had been. “By that point we were going really slow with the goat and rabbits on us. Did you know rabbits scream when they are scared? Yeah. They scream like a baby getting murdered. Fucking awful. We knew we were making terrible time. We just wanted to get back as soon as we could.”

Adrian straightened in his chair, the burning question finally too much for him to hold back. “I still don’t understand how that resulted in the bear. Truthfully, after hearing your story I wish you would have simply brought me one of the horses from the beginning. It would have been less complicated, especially since they are both dead now.”

Sypha held up a finger, swallowing her mouthful of greens before speaking. “But it _was_ useful to go to the village. You may have still been trapped and poisoned if we hadn’t. I want to go back and repay Hana for the goat and for helping us once we leave here. It wasn’t right to steal from her after she was so kind.”

Adrian wanted to retort that at least he wouldn’t have lost himself if they’d done it another way, but he resisted making the snide remark, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

“The bear was never planned,” Trevor admitted, finishing his wine and pouring another helping into his odd looking chalice. He speared his fork into a piece of meat. It had a deep red colouration and a sweet flavour. “The fucking thing attacked our camp the night before we got back. It was trying to eat the damned goat and had been following us for a few days. We knew there was something tailing us, but we had never actually seen it. Its amazing how stealthy such a huge animal can be. We had almost no warning that it was going to attack, just some crashing in the brush and then the goat was freaking out. It was before dawn, we were still asleep. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight a fucking bear in the dark? It almost killed the shit out of me. I got it in the ass with my sword and hit it with a few daggers but that barely slowed it down. The whip stunned it, but since its not a night creature the consecration is useless. Sypha had the idea to electrocute it. She can do thunder magic but its her worst element so it was hard on her. We lassoed it and used the thunder magic and a bit of ice and fire magic and my whip to keep it on track. It fought hard. It was huge, powerful. Its one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do. We were lucky that we were close to the Hold when it attacked or we never would have been able to bring it here. Those few hours felt like a whole day. Its a fucking miracle that we managed to coax it as far as we did. A couple times it bolted and just dragged me through the woods on my face and Syph stopped it with a wall of ice. Without her I think it would have eaten me.”

Sypha beamed at that, not denying it.

Adrian stared at them both, trying to imagine two humans wrestling with an animal that he’d had a hard time subduing. Hunter or not, mage or not, it was incredible.

Trevor continued, “When we got back here I tried to knock it out, but it woke up before you got to it. I knew it would be a bad idea to give you a gigantic angry bear when you had spent almost three weeks starving and were going to be weak. When we got down here… well… it was fucked. You were fucked. That… it was bad. Adrian its my fault that this happened and you had to go through that. You sent us out to help you and instead we left you in here alone for two weeks while you starved and went feral. As much as I’m glad you’re alright I can’t really imagine what it must have been like to go through that. I’m sorry.” Trevor surprised him then. He wiped the grease off his hand and reached over the table, closing his palm over Adrian’s. He stared hard at him. “We never meant to let that happen to you.”

Adrian was at a loss for words. He was right, they had left him down there for so long, alone, hurt, starving, it wasn’t something he could just brush off as if it were nothing. His body was marked with scars that might take years to fade and his mind… he had learned things about himself that he had never thought possible. He may have gone another five hundred years never knowing what slept deep inside him. Now he couldn’t forget it. He pulled his hand free, suddenly losing his appetite for the meal spread on the table. He looked at Trevor, then at Sypha, trying not to show how deeply it had shaken him. He felt a tremble run through him. “Why… why didn’t you come back? When you realized the flowers were not in the Belmont cemetery? You could have told me what happened. We could have discussed a course of action together.”

Sypha bowed her head, setting her fork down. “That was my fault. I didn’t want to come back with nothing for you. Trevor said we should regroup, and I said no. I didn’t know we would be so long. I wanted to find something to help.”

Adrian stared at her for a second, trying to imagine what he would have done in their position. He didn’t know. “I thought you were never coming back. I thought you had died. The starvation… its… it was...” he trailed off, realizing he didn’t want to talk about it. He had to forcibly school himself to make a calm expression. He observed Trevor draining his cup, tipping it up until the last drops rolled into his mouth. Sypha was twisting her hands in her lap and examining her plate. His thank you dinner was turning badly off course. He sat up straighter in his chair and forced himself to pick up his fork. “I’m sorry. I’m very grateful for everything you did for me. I know it was dangerous. I wish it had gone differently.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the three, punctuated by the sputtering of one of the candles and the sounds of Trevor's chair creaking when he leaned on the backrest.

Sypha finally broke through the thick quiet. “This meal is really amazing Adrian. Thank you so much. How did you manage it with the entrance still sealed? How did you get all of the ingredients? Where did you prepare it?”

He was grateful for the change in topic. “I discovered an alternate exit this afternoon, while you were sleeping.”

“Really?” Trevor was obviously surprised by that. “Nobody ever told me about another exit.”

“Its a system of natural caves that connect to the hall just past the well. I will show you after we finish.”

That seemed to help break up some of the tension and they were able to move past the unpleasant details of Adrian's confinement, for which he was most thankful. He was having a hard enough time with his own thoughts – he didn’t need anymore scrutiny. It was all he could do to maintain his composure as it was. When the discussion turned towards him specifically he felt paralyzed and there was an awful tremor that would wind through his guts and make his hands tremble. He hoped neither of them had noticed how he gripped his fork like it was going to escape if he let go.

As they grew full and the wine bottle emptied they finally decided that the meal was over. They had kept the conversation steered carefully away from serious matters after the mid-meal discomfort. The intention this evening had been to relax and to take a break from the horrors of the past weeks. They all needed it. After the food was gone Sypha helped stack the empty dishes and Trevor went around blowing out some of the candles so as not to waste them.

Sypha and Adrian made their way to the well to clean what they could. She stacked the dishes to one side as Adrian scrubbed them furiously with a rag. He was throwing himself wholly into the task, as keeping his hands busy helped to stave off the anxiety which was returning in full force as the distraction of the meal waned. He needed to keep busy. He didn’t realize how fast he was going, moving inhumanly through the stack in effort to keep himself occupied. Sypha’s hand on his shoulder startled him and he dropped the goblet he’d been rinsing. It smashed to the stones with a high pitched tinkling of broken crystalline shards. He stared at it in surprise.

Sypha’s hand squeezed his shoulder, “Its alright. Its only some old junk.”

He stared at her, trying to hide how shaken he was. He thought he’d done a commendable job of it throughout the meal, but he should have known she would be far too perceptive for his nervousness to go unnoticed entirely. She pulled him against her in a reassuring hug. Her head only came a little higher than his shoulder but he wilted against her, feeling suddenly like she was holding him up despite her petite frame. She was steady and warm and her arm circled his waist gently, her hand at his back. He felt like he would break as easily as the goblet.

Trevor’s boots announced his descent on the stairs and he soon joined them on the lowest floor, pausing when he came upon the scene of them embracing. He grinned at them. “Aww you didn’t wait for me? You’re both so cute,” he teased and joined them, wrapping them both in a hug and kissing Adrian's cheek. His breath smelled like herbs and wine. Up close it was evident that his cheeks had a rosy tint and there were still leaves in his hair. He brought a hand up to brush some blonde strands over Adrian’s shoulder, then brushed his knuckles along the side of his neck affectionately. Adrian trembled as the fingers touched his skin, just grazing the scars on his throat. He withdrew, wrapping his arms around his middle. He was torn between wanting to be close to them and feeling panic edging in when attention was drawn to the scarring.

“I can show you the caverns now,” he said by way of distraction and moved a few paces back, out of the hug. Its not that he didn’t want to touch them, of course he did. But when Trevor touched his neck and drew attention to the evidence of his mutilation it made him feel sick. He suddenly wondered if the second part of his little surprise was a good idea or not.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know his part cuts off rather abruptly. Things were getting really long and I needed to chop it somewhere or it was going to be a monster. I know I embellished a little here... Adrian really wanted to do something nice for them and if anyone could have pulled this off it'd be him! Bit of a slower chapter, but after all the intensity its nice to have a break.
> 
> More soon!


	13. Part Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this chapter to Me and SM for offering me very helpful feedback when I really needed it. Thank you so much.

**Part Thirteen**

“I can’t believe nobody told me this was here,” Trevor mused as he followed behind Adrian. In his preparations earlier he had placed lanterns and torches every so far along the path to make it easier for them to traverse. He led them into the winding, narrowing tunnel, their footsteps echoing off the rocks. “So it really leads outside?”

“Yes,” he answered, ducking through the tightest part of the tunnel.

They emerged into the large cavern he had come upon earlier. This was the second part of the surprise. Adrian had brought a few things here after realizing that the water in the pool was warm. Not hot, but it wasn’t frigid either. He had intended to lavish both Trevor and Sypha with comfort and cleanliness, and to join them in an indulgent bath in the warm pool. He had placed several lanterns in the cavern, and the effect was stunning. The minerals in the ceiling of the space glittered like a thousand stars, reflecting light in every direction and making the still surface of the pool shine like the night sky. He had collected what he could find to use for bathing. Soap was generally scarce, but he did have a small bit of lye soap, and he had the rendered bear fat which he planned to use on their numerous injuries. He had found a clean shirt for Trevor and some other odd bits of clothing for them to wear while their regular outfits were washed. They were folded neatly on a large rock that was flat enough to keep the items from falling off. He had collected lavender and mint during his foraging, and had mixed it with some of the bear fat during rendering it to make a scented grease which would be soothing on sore muscles and smell relaxing and pleasant. If Adrian was to be perfectly honest with himself this entire setting made him veritably ache for the lavish castle bath where he had often lounged for hours in the wonderfully hot water, emerging perfumed with rose and lavender. It was odd which things triggered the strange nostalgia, but it was there all the same.

“Wow, this is so beautiful,” Sypha said as she entered the warm cavern. She began pulling off her robe before Adrian had a chance to answer her. Ever bold, she was not at all shy of her nakedness. Adrian could see the sunburn lines on her skin in the space between her arm sleeves and her dress. She was red there, but pale pink everywhere else except her neck, face, and the tops of her feet, which were also burnt. She seemed to relish being free of her clothes and gave her body a little shake before finding a good spot to wade into the pool, careful of the rocks and uneven bottom. The light danced over her curves. Adrian watched it and remembered the last time he had seen her naked – in the inn the morning before they’d left to travel here. That memory was still seared into his head as the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. He shifted, heat coiling in his belly. Sex had been the furthest thing from his mind for weeks. He had certainly considered that setting all of this up might end in something intimate, but he suddenly had doubts. He didn’t know if he could manage the contact, and he had to question if they would want him the same way after all that had transpired. It had changed him. He didn’t feel the same about himself as he had before. There was an itching, nagging uncertainty that had never been there. He had always known he was attractive, but he no longer felt confident about it, and further to that he did not know how easily he could tolerate being touched.

Trevor wasn’t as hasty in stripping off and jumping in the water. He stepped up beside Adrian quietly. “You must have been working the whole afternoon to prepare all of this,” he said in a low timbre.

“I had some time to kill,” Adrian answered as if he hadn’t been frantically trying to fill that time out of a desperate need to distract himself from his own thoughts. He peeked at Trevor out of the corner of his eye, watching the firelight flicker over his features. Trevor was watching him back with a knowing look. He put an arm around Adrian’s waist, keeping his grasp loose. He leaned closer. His other arm rose up to mimic his earlier gesture, tentatively brushing his hair back from his shoulder, exposing his scarred neck. The light touch set his heart rattling at his breast. He couldn’t help the way he tensed at the contact. Trevor turned to face him, withdrawing the arm.

“You don’t want to be touched,” he observed, naming the elephant in the room. For all of Sypha’s perception it was Trevor who seemed to understand his present state of mind.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as a tremor ran through him beyond his control.

Trevor hovered near him, perhaps trying to decide if or how to press the matter. He leaned in and placed a small kiss on his cheek. Adrian could feel his beard hairs. They tickled. “You spoiled us today. I can’t believe you cooked all of that food and even found wine. I haven’t eaten like that in ages. And now this… Thank you Adrian. I’m glad I almost killed myself over that bear. You’re worth it.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered, and felt his heart relax to a less intense pace. He watched Trevor undress then, removing his boots with a toe to the heel and yanking his shirt off over his head. He had certainly lost a bit of weight; all the muscles on him appeared more defined as there was less fat between them to soften everything. He had a bruise on his ribs that had turned a sallow yellow colour around the edges and was still a dark mottled purple in the center. There was a deep set of claw marks over his right arm, still oozing sluggishly – those would be from the bear. He was lucky they weren’t deeper. A swipe from one of those paws might have killed a man if it landed correctly. As he pushed his bottoms over his hips Adrian noticed the slightly more prominent crest of the bone there, and his scent, which had an effect no matter how uncomfortable Adrian was feeling in his own skin. That same heat that he felt when he saw Sypha entering the pool was renewed when he saw Trevor remove his clothes. His body still wanted them, even if he was too screwed up to be able to listen to it.

Trevor’s neck and face were sunburned and dark, but his ass was pale, and it looked very round in the light of the lanterns as he sauntered over to the pool and dipped a toe in. He glanced at Adrian out of the corner of his eye and gave him a tiny smile. Just the barest lifting of the corner of his mouth. That bastard. He was doing it on purpose. He was using his body to lure him when he knew he was still trying to work past everything that had happened. Adrian had to forcibly resist the desire to push him into the water.

Sypha was watching Trevor as well, a pleased look on her face. She made no secret of appreciating his figure as he slowly lowered himself into the pool. Adrian’s mouth dropped open in indignant paralysis. Both of them were in on it. He stood there and just stared as Trevor very slowly entered the water, stretching his arms over his head and groaning obtusely. Adrian felt his cheeks warming and he turned to fiddle with one of the lanterns.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Sypha called from the pool.

“Yes, just getting some things,” he answered distractedly as he gathered up the soap and brought it over to the edge of the water.

Sypha stood, water dripping from her as she poised her hands to perform magic. There was a flash and she used a fire spell to heat the pool. “There. Now its nice and hot. Come on Adrian, it feels great. You worked so hard today, come and relax.”

He had a real sense of deja vu as he watched them cuddle together in the pool. It had all started in the water. That had been where they had first made it clear what they wanted. That night at the inn had changed everything for him. So much had happened since then, but the only one who had changed was him. They were still the same as always – totally open with him. They had both done everything they could to help him and in the end it was thanks to them both that he was no longer trapped and hurt. Yes, he had embarrassing, disgusting marks on him from the ordeal, but he knew that it bothered him more than it bothered them. They had seen him at his very worst. At many versions of it, in fact. Weakened, injured, trapped, scared. They had seen him desiccate, waste, and even then they had not rejected him. They’d come back and found him even worse off, literally mindless with starvation and pain, and it hadn’t really phased them. He had to be honest with himself. He was always honest with himself. He was affected greatly by what had transpired and he needed time to work through it. But he didn’t mean to push them away while he did. He could try. He could set boundaries if he wasn’t alright and he knew they would respect them. He would at least try.

So he took a preparatory breath and turned, finding both of them watching him over the now steaming water. Their faces were flushed from the heat and they had found an area to sit comfortably where the rocks weren’t digging into them. Sypha was in Trevor’s lap with her arms around his shoulders. She leaned into him and kissed his temple. His hand was between her shoulder blades, pressing her body closer. He wished that he could hide himself. Perhaps he could simply remove his clothing faster than they could see and dart into the water at vampire speed. Would that be ok? He could set his own boundaries, right? Was one of those that he couldn’t stand to be seen naked?

No, he didn’t think that was very realistic. Were the scars so offensive, really? Vampires were not supposed to show evidence of injuries. It was a sign of weakness. It was shameful within vampire society. But Sypha and Trevor were human. Trevor had many scars – even on his face – and he had never displayed any kind of embarrassment at them. Looking at him now, studying what he could see over the water line there were many more scars on his arms, chest and shoulders, and yet he didn’t seem to care. Adrian had not even looked at his own body since everything had happened. Not really. He had pointedly avoided looking at himself the entire day and had covered up with the scratchy Belmont tunic as soon as he’d found it. He had no idea how bad the marks were.

His hands trembled as he unbuttoned the shirt. He fought the urge to dart around and extinguish the lanterns. He fought the urge to shrink back and hide himself. It was more than just an urge, it was screaming in his head to stop, but he squashed it down into a little corner and refused to listen to it. For the first time since it had all happened he actually let himself look at his own body, peering down at his chest and stomach. The scar from his father’s attack was unchanged, but he had many more now. Six of them on his torso, in fact. He gasped at himself and shuddered bodily, running his fingers over the damaged flesh. One on his right shoulder; a puckered spot about two inches across, pink in the center, a small divot where the subcutaneous tissue still needed to fill in. Around it was a jagged hypertrophic ring where the poison had eaten away at him until the skin had become necrotic. He thought he might hyperventilate. His hand sank lower, finding three more comparable scars over his ribs and he remembered very clearly the feeling of drowning in his own blood. He was sure the one on his neck must look the same, but he couldn’t see it. He thought he might actually vomit. There was one just right of his bellybutton and a bit lower. That had been the spear to damage his spine. He knew that some of these also exited out of his back, depending on how deeply the spears had sunk into his body. There were two others on his abdomen. They had come in at different angles, entering the back or side and poking out of his front. These scars were more jagged and messy, rather than having that circular shape. They were not as deep but they covered more area.

His body was covered in the horrible markings. He shook harder, forgetting Sypha and Trevor and simply staring down at himself, not believing that he looked this way. He remembered coughing and the black fluid leaking from the holes. He remembered the sensation of being impaled on the stakes. Morbidly curious and filled with mounting panic he fiddled with the laces of his fly so he could remove his breeches. If Trevor or Sypha were speaking he didn’t hear them. He lost awareness of anything but the horror of his own body. He pushed the clothing off his hips and lifted his right leg so he could examine his thigh where two of the stakes had penetrated the soft tissue and muscle there. The markings were similar to the ones on his torso, if perhaps less sunken and the edges less raised. Finally he came to the one just below the left knee, stepping out of his clothing and standing naked. The bone had healed correctly. His body had done a good job of that at least, but the flesh was marred with still another mark of his imprisonment and torture. It would take a long time and a lot of blood for the scars to disappear. What if they never did?

He felt like the light was too bright suddenly, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt the splintered wood sinking into him, felt the burn of poison searing his veins and the bubbling of his own blood pouring from his mouth. His teeth were clenched together so tightly his jaws ached. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. His heartbeat was a deafening throb in his head and he was panting through his teeth as he grabbed the sides of his head in a vain attempt to stop the sensations from overwhelming him but they did not relent.

“Adrian,” came the stern voice from far away. There was something warm around him, something hot over the backs of his hands. He nearly lashed out but he realized that it was Trevor. His voice was calm and firm. “Breathe. That’s it, just look at me and breathe,” Trevor’s hands were on his. He was standing in front of him with a concerned expression on his face. He wouldn’t allow him to break from his gaze. Every time he tried to dart his eyes away Trevor moved to catch them again. He held his hands, slowly tugging them away from his hair and squeezing them tightly.

“There you go, just breathe,” he sounded like he was talking to the horses. Adrian stared back and listened to him demonstrate the slow, deep breaths. He tried to mirror them himself. Slowly the panic faded, the light wasn’t blinding anymore, the world came back around him and he realized that Sypha was easing his shirt back over his shoulders. They were both dripping and naked. He didn’t even remember them getting out of the water.

“I-I’m ok,” he managed in a soft voice as he clutched at the garment and drew it around himself protectively. He did not look down at himself, lest the anxiety seize him anew. Trevor patted his shoulder.

“Just a little panic attack. You’ll be alright. Come in the water, its nice and warm. It’ll feel good.”

He eyed the steaming pool warily. The pool hadn’t caused this. They hadn’t caused this. It was all in his head. It was his idea to bring them here and share this with them and it would be pitiful if he didn’t even manage to set foot in the damned water. He nodded, straightening. He hated appearing so fragile.

This time he didn’t dare look down at himself. He used his speed to throw his clothing over a rock and darted into the warm water until it was up to his neck. He watched Trevor and Sypha return at a more sedate pace, his eyes roaming over them both with a frustrated sort of longing. He wanted to be close to them, no matter how much trouble he was having with his own nakedness. He had spoiled a good opportunity to reconnect with them. Shame burned in him and he stared at a point ahead of him in the water, shoulders drooping.

Sypha and Trevor seemed very willing to let the incident go. They sidled up to him in the water, tugging him over to the comfortable rock and sitting on either side of him. Sypha kissed his cheek and fished for his hand, lacing their fingers together. She didn’t seem willing to let him curl in on himself and refuse all contact, though she was respectful with her touch. Trevor simply stayed beside him, close, but still giving him a little distance. After a few more minutes to recover he pulled himself from his introspection and blinked at them, looking from one face to the other.

“This has been a really nice evening,” Sypha said suddenly, giving his hand a tug to get his attention. “The food you made was so good. I know you worked really hard on all of it. Thank you so much Adrian. For all of this. It means a lot.”

He turned his gold eyes on her and her smile was infectious. He couldn’t help smiling back. Just the act of doing it made him feel a bit better. A bit lighter. “You’re welcome Sypha, I’m glad you enjoyed it. You both look like you missed a few meals recently. I guess you’ve gotten used to me hunting for you while we travel. I’ve spoiled you.”

She laughed at that and leaned in closer, almost letting her hip press against him but still keeping that little space between their bodies. He felt warmth in his belly at her proximity, even though it made him nervous. It was as if he was at war with himself. “Can I kiss you?” she interjected, pulling him from his thoughts.

He blinked at her. She had never asked to kiss him before… did she think him so fragile that she needed permission? Considering what had just happened he supposed it was reasonable. He was shaken, perhaps more deeply than he had realized before seeing the damage up close. He had been struggling with physical contact which had previously been perfectly fine. He didn’t actually know what he was ok with anymore. He had finally started to get used to the idea of an intimate relationship between the three of them before the cage had happened. Now he wasn’t sure about anything. It felt like someone had taken the ground and wrenched it sideways. He was still on it, but every step was off balance.

“Please? You’re so pretty, and I want to.” Sypha was gently pushing him and her voice was laced with sweetness.

A girl was calling him pretty. Trevor had done it before too. He knew that he had sort of an androgyny to him, that his eyelashes were long and he wore his hair that way as well, but he had never really thought he was pretty. Especially not now with… with everything. He arched an eyebrow at her. “Sypha, I’m not a girl.”

She laughed. “I know that. Would you prefer to be called handsome?”

“Yes.” At least that had a more masculine connotation.

“I still want to kiss you,” she batted her eyelashes at him.

He blushed, despite himself. She really was impossible to refuse, especially when she was asking so sweetly. “That would be nice,” he admitted when he managed to find his voice.

Sypha smiled brightly, blue eyes dancing in the torchlight. She leaned up to press her lips over his. He could feel her breasts floating against him in the water. Somehow the fact that his body was submerged and not fully visible helped with the anxiety. It was still there, but it was manageable. She began slowly, only pressing their lips together for a few seconds, opening her mouth enough for a small touch of her tongue then finishing with a few smaller pecks over the corner of his mouth. It felt good to kiss her. She was familiar and soft and her scent was comforting. He found himself dipping forwards and catching her lips once more after she released him, just to savour the feeling a bit longer. He deepened the second kiss, exploring her and tasting hints of bear meat and rosemary on her. Their tongues slid together and he wanted to pull her against him, but he was still hesitant. She nipped his lip gently, finishing the kiss with another dusting of soft pecks along the edge of his lips. He pressed his nose into her cheek and inhaled her scent deeply. He could feel her smiling still. It was pulling him away from his worries and helping him to remember how easy and natural it was between them all before the cage had happened. When there were a few inches separating them once more he was able to smile back at her. If he could just manage to get out of his head he thought things could be normal. His body certainly wanted them. It was his mind that kept dragging him into hysterics.

“We should wash. I brought soap and something for your wounds. I had intended on helping you both relax,” he said to distract himself from the growing heat in his belly.

“I’m very relaxed,” Trevor answered lazily, lounging back against the edge of the pool. “But if you’re offering to wash me I’m not going to say no.” He stretched his arms, resting his elbows against the rocks and shooting Adrian and Sypha an unrepentant grin.

“Trevor you’re shameless,” Sypha accused in a flat tone and his grin only widened.

That hadn’t exactly been Adrian’s intention. He had pictured perhaps applying some of the bear grease to his fresh slashes, maybe working the mint and lavender version into his shoulders. He needed to figure out what he was he ok with. Things were very hot and cold right now. One moment he was fine being embraced or kissed, the next he was crippled with panic by merely looking at himself naked. They were likely to be as confused by it as he was, though they were handling it graciously. It didn’t help that being near them was making his insides quiver like so much jelly, and kissing Sypha had roused at least one part of him with little consideration to his recent trauma. He knew that his experience had left him with more than only physical scars. He didn’t want to do anything that drew attention to his own body. Touching them sounded lovely. Kissing Sypha had definitely been good. Watching them touch each other might be fine. The rest he wasn’t so sure about yet. He needed time to work through this, to understand it and figure out how to manage this new sense of unease that had never been present before.

Sypha was chastising Trevor good-naturedly and had taken the soap to begin working it over her skin and into her hair. She scrubbed herself until she was pink, avoiding the sun burnt parts, then dipped below the water to rinse herself off. She resurfaced, water dripping from the curls in her hair and the tip of her nose. Trevor and Adrian watched her stand up in the pool and smooth her hands over her hair to remove the excess water. The way she raised her arms offered them both an excellent view of her figure. Her complexion stood out brightly against the backdrop of stones and crystallized minerals of the cave. Trevor scooted closer to Adrian, leaning in to speak into his ear.

“Feeling better?”

He stilled, turning to face the hunter. “I think so,” he said after a moment of consideration. It was good to be here with them. It was almost normal, almost like before if he didn’t let himself think too hard on it. At the very least it was helping him to test his new limits a little.

Trevor leaned a bit closer and kissed his ear. “Just tell us what you need. We want you to feel good.”

“This is good. It feels normal. Like when we were at the inn.”

“Good.”

“I missed you,” Adrian admitted suddenly, “I wish I could forget what happened.”

Trevor tipped their heads together, his rough cheek grazing Adrian’s smooth one. “I’d really like to touch you, help you forget,” he began and Adrian knew how easily he could slip an arm around him, pull him tight. It would feel good to be safe and warm in Trevor’s arms, but he wasn’t sure he could handle it. The brush of knuckles on his scars earlier had made him immediately want to withdraw. He thought of what would happen if Trevor were to openly examine his body and he shivered, scooting a little further from him.

“I… I can’t,” he admitted, ashamed. The blue eyes watched him with a look that he really hoped wasn’t pity. That would just tear him apart. He wasn’t some wounded animal; he just needed time. “I’m sorry.”

Trevor shook his head, “I don’t think there’s a rule book for any of this. We’ll figure it out.”

There was absolutely a sense of relief at that. He closed his eyes and leaned into Trevor slightly, inhaling his scent. It was strong, maybe a little too much so. He wrinkled his nose and twisted to look at him again. “You smell terrible, and you have leaves in your hair. You should wash.”

Trevor looked down at himself. Any part of him that wasn’t below the water was beaded with sweat and coated in a layer of grime. He had partly dried blood that had scabbed messily around the gouges in his arm left by the bear. There was dirt on his neck, scuffs of it on his forearms and elbows and in dark crescents under his nails. He shrugged. “I thought it was manly,” he said as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Adrian raised a skeptical brow.

“Oh you’re such a princess,” Trevor said with the barest hint of a pout. “You’re no fun.”

Adrian couldn’t hide his amusement at that. He supposed out of the three of them he _was_ the only one who qualified as royalty, but he wasn’t about to dig himself deeper by saying anything. He just liked to be clean. “Trevor, wash.”

Trevor stood in the water and waded over to Sypha. She was still smoothing her hair back with her fingers. He came up behind her and put a hand on each breast, squeezing them in his palms. He tipped his head around one of her shoulders and kissed along her neck, peeking at Adrian under the fringe of his hair with a mischievous glint in his eye. He then pointedly bit her shoulder, making her yelp and whirl around to slap him. He caught her hand before the attack could land and pulled her tightly against his body, closing his mouth over hers. She wiggled at first, then melted against him, her head tipping up so she could reach his lips. The kiss deepened until Trevor was arching over Sypha, his neck and jaw working visibly as he forcibly devoured her mouth. One hand slid down the lightly muscled planes of her body and cupped her rear firmly, hiking her up against him. Adrian saw the way he put a thigh between her legs, pushing them open. Her breasts crushed to the muscle of his chest as a hand curled up into his hair. They were such a juxtaposition – Trevor was broad and muscular, darkly tanned against her and he was sporting numerous scars, bruises and cuts. His hair was still a dirty mess. Sypha was fresh and clean from washing, her damp copper hair curling and her skin smooth and white. Her petite frame flared at the hip, narrowed at the waist and she was delicate at the wrists and throat. They were beautiful together. He wanted to touch them too, and for them to touch him and kiss him like before. He didn’t want this… this damage.

Sypha allowed Trevor another moment to kiss her and grope her before she tightened her hand in his hair and yanked his head back. So much for sweet.

“Ow, Sypha… Owww!” he whined. She placed a very deliberate kiss on his mouth.

“I’ve said it _so_ many times Trevor,” she admonished with a glitter in her eye. “Don’t. Bite.” She punctuated this with another pull on his hair, his head cocked uncomfortably to the side.

“I wasn’t,” he pouted, relaxing his hold on her. She held his hair for another second as if to make sure he was going to listen.

“Be nice,” she warned. He nodded obediently. She released his hair slowly; she didn’t trust that he was going to listen. He peeked around her, eyes flashing to Adrian as if to check in. He watched them with an amused expression. The tension was draining away a little; Trevor’s playfulness was a good distraction. Sypha pushed the soap into his hand. “Adrian’s right, you are filthy. Its not manly. Wash.”

Trevor looked insulted, but it was clear the hurt didn’t run very deep. Sypha waded back over to the rock they’d been sitting on and sank down beside Adrian. She smelled clean now. Trevor was dunking himself beneath the water, working the scratchy lye soap into his hair and over his skin. His body glistened in the flickering light and Adrian watched him, swallowing the desire that he had been struggling with since they’d entered the cavern. He wished none of this had happened. He wanted to go back to the moment he had set foot in the stupid Hold and listen to his instincts. If only one of them had noticed the runes on the floor, or Trevor had been aware of the trap. They had lost so much because of it. Time, progress – they hadn’t even searched the Hold for useful materials yet. He hated it here. It had been his prison, and now that he was free he still had to stay in this wretched pit in the ground that paid homage to the slaughter of his species. Every time he glanced around at the shelves upon shelves of books he was reminded of it. Every time he smelled that dusty odour of rotting paper he was right back in the cage, pain wracking his entire body relentlessly. It had not even been a full day yet that he was free. The gore and blood that was left upstairs wasn’t even dry. He longed to leave the horror behind but it would come with him. It was inside him. It had changed him and going elsewhere would not fix that. It wouldn’t fix the damage that was deeper than flesh wounds. Dwelling on it was not going to help. Avoiding all physical contact was not realistic if he wanted to have a relationship with two other people. There were already enough things working against them without this additional issue. He needed to try to move past it, but it was terrifying. He really didn’t know how he would do it. A gentle hand on his bare back pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. He flinched and tried to twist out from under Sypha’s fingers.

“Its alright,” she said softly, withdrawing her hand with a sad expression. He looked away. He didn’t want to see that. It was the same expression Trevor had given him before. Pity. It was abhorrent. He could not endure that look.

“I made something for your sunburn,” he said to redirect her attention, wading across the uneven bottom of the pool towards the other side, where he’d left the two containers of bear grease. He returned to the rock, setting the plain one on the edge of the rocks and handing her the one that was infused with lavender and mint. “It should help.”

Sypha dipped her nose into the clay jar and inhaled the scent. “What is it? It smells good.”

“Its rendered bear fat with mint and lavender infused into it. Mint grows everywhere, its a weed. Easy to find. There are lavender bushes that have survived over the years in the Estate gardens, even after everything was burned. When I saw you both I thought it might help with the sunburn and sore muscles.”

Sypha gave him a broad smile. “You do know you’re pretty much the sweetest man I’ve ever met, right? I can’t believe you did even more for us after the food. It was already so much.”

Adrian felt his cheeks going pink. “I already explained to Trevor, I had time to kill while you were sleeping today,” he glanced away, at Trevor, who was giving his hairy armpits another pass with the shrinking remainder of the soap. Adrian wondered if there would be any left for him to clean himself. He hadn’t had a chance to have a proper bath yet since everything. He had only rinsed with the well water and he veritably ached to be clean. When he looked back at Sypha she was watching him with an affectionate expression.

“So I should put it on my burns?” she asked, dipping a finger into the pot and working a tiny bit between her thumb and index finger to test the consistency.

“Yes, after you dry off. There is still one more thing I have to show you. The exit to the cave. I have to check on the meat soon anyhow. It would be unfortunate if something came along and ate it all once the fire dies and the smoke clears.”

Sypha frowned. “Isn’t it dangerous to leave a smoking fire out there? What if someone sees it? It could lead the night creatures here. The smoke would be visible for miles in every direction, even at night if the moon is bright enough.”

Adrian nodded. “I know, but I had no other place to work. I thought it better to do it there than in the ruins of the Estate. That seemed like more of a risk. If something comes we can fight. I expected that they would find us here eventually. I’m actually surprised that nothing has. Its odd. They knew we were coming here. They had to know. They should have attacked us by now.”

Sypha nodded agreement. “I was thinking the same thing. When we were in the village, Hana said that there was news of something happening at Braila. She didn’t have many details. There was a battle there, the castle appeared. I don’t know what happened. Braila is really far from here, it would take weeks to get there. If the castle is still there I don’t know if there is anything we can do. The information is probably several weeks old as well, because of the distance. We have no way of knowing unless we go to a larger city and get more current information.”

Trevor rejoined them on the rock, finally looking cleaner. His hair dripped and clung to the sides of his face. He pushed it back with one hand and deposited the tiny remainder of the soap in Adrian’s hand with the other. He actually looked like his skin was a shade lighter after washing off the filth.

“If they attacked Braila,” he interjected, “Then that would explain why nothing came for us here. Dracula would have needed his troops. He would have withdrawn them from the countryside to focus his assault. Sypha’s right. We’re cut off out here. Maybe we can find some magical means of getting information here. We haven’t looked over everything yet. Otherwise we have to wait.”

Adrian did not enjoy the sense of being stuck out of the loop on the sidelines. It made their position in the Hold seem like a rather large waste of energy and time. The claw marks on Trevor’s arm had opened from his picking the scabs away; they were oozing fresh red. The copper scent was unmistakable. Adrian eyed the wounds. They were not yet infected, but they were deep enough. Stitches would have been ideal. As it was he grabbed the plain bear grease and leaned over Trevor’s arm, setting the soap on the edge of the pool.

“This is deep. I can’t stop the bleeding, but this will help keep it from getting infected.”

Sypha put a hand on his wrist before he could do anything. “I can stop the bleeding,” she said, her free hand summoning a small bit of flame. Trevor winced.

“Oh no fuckin’ way Syph, its not even that bad. I’m fine. Both of you quit trying to tend my damn wounds. I don’t need all of this for a scratch.” He tried to wiggle away from Sypha’s hand and Adrian released him. Cautery would certainly stop the bleeding, but it would scar more and it would be painful. On the other hand, it had been some time since the initial injury and it was still bleeding. Stitches would be much more appropriate.

“Sypha, wait. There were some medical instruments in the laboratory. I didn’t go through them, but there could be a needle there. I could stitch it. That would heal better.”

Sypha considered, the flame poised in her fingertips. She looked back to Adrian. “Its worth a look,” she said finally, releasing the spell.

Trevor put his hand over the wound and backed out of reach. “Would you both stop it? Nobody is burning me and nobody is stabbing me with a needle. I’m fine. This isn’t even that bad. It already scabbed once. It will scab again. Just give me the damn grease.”

Sypha gave him a somewhat condescending look. “Suit yourself,” she said finally and left Adrian to deal with him. She waded to the edge of the pool and climbed out, grabbing one of the large sheets that Adrian had considerately placed nearby in the absence of towels. She wrapped herself in the cloth and rubbed it over her hair.

He turned back to Trevor who was trying to sneak around him and out of the pool. “Give me your arm,” he instructed, scooping some of the oily substance onto his fingers. Trevor looked like he was going to resist but he finally relented, offering his right arm to Adrian. He held the elbow up, letting his forearm dangle. Adrian secured his elbow in one hand and took a moment to examine the deep wounds before smearing the grease into them with his fingers. Trevor held perfectly still, even though it had to be painful. The hunter was looking at him oddly and he realized after a moment that he was standing in the waist deep water and his torso was completely exposed. Trevor was staring at the scars. He froze, a tremor working through him. He carefully set the jar of grease aside, working hard not to drop it as the flare of panic seized him. He lowered himself back into the water up to his neck. Trevor watched him closely.

“Adrian,” he began in a quiet tone, “Think of everything that’s happened. Everything we saw you go through. Everything we’ve _all_ been through. Why is _this_ the thing that upsets you so much? Why can’t you stand us looking at you? Why can’t we touch you?” The hunter was frowning at him and poking absently at the freshly administered goop on his arm.

He didn’t know how to respond, how to describe his feelings. He did not fully know the answers to Trevor’s questions. He stared into the surface of the water, which was reflecting the crystals from the roof of the cave in sparkling patterns. “I don’t want to talk about it Trevor,” he said after a moment, hoping that would be the end of it. Trevor looked very much like he had more to say but Adrian watched him work bodily to keep his mouth shut. He could see the mounting impatience in his expression. That did not make him feel better. Only a few minutes ago he had seemed more than understanding. Trevor had helped him recover from the panic when he’d seen himself for the first time. He had been comforting and reasonable. He’d respected the distance that Adrian obviously still needed. Why was it so important that he see the damage? Why couldn’t he be more patient? Why wouldn’t he just leave it alone?

Trevor finally exited the pool, standing naked and dripping on the rocks when he was out.

Sypha had busied herself picking something to wear from the random clothes he’d been able to find for them. She was pointedly not looking at either of them, perhaps out of consideration for Adrian’s feelings, or maybe to keep herself from scolding Trevor for his unwillingness to drop the subject. The hunter shook himself dry, making no secret of his own nakedness and the numerous markings which covered much of his body. It was clear that he was stuck between wanting to be sensitive and not really understanding why it was so necessary. When he finally went over to the flat rock where the clean clothing was Adrian quickly washed himself, focusing on his hair and on ensuring that no trace of bear blood or anything else remained in it. It was wonderful to be clean and he allowed himself a moment to simply appreciate the pleasures of soap and hot water before he finished. As he approached the edge of the pool Sypha had one of the large sheets held open for him. He smiled at the thoughtful gesture and allowed her to fold it around him. He pulled it tight over his body and Sypha peered up at him as if silently asking him if he was alright. He nodded slightly to her and dipped so she could lean up and kiss his cheek. She gingerly put her arms around him and he allowed her to pull him into a gentle hug. Her body was soft and warm and he rested their foreheads together gratefully. She released him shortly and he padded over to the clothing he had discarded, pulling on his undergarment, breeches and the scratchy Belmont shirt.

He looked at the empty pool glittering with the mirror image of the crystalline roof. The water was still and clear now, and it reflected the light back around the cave, making everything shimmer beautifully. This cavern bath had not gone the way he had intended. He had hoped to rekindle some kind of romantic connection with Sypha and Trevor here. He’d thought that if he simply created a situation that was familiar and comfortable that he would be able to slip back into things where they’d left off. Evidently that was not going to happen so easily. It would take more work than he’d done today to regain what they had all lost. He needed to better understand the answers to the questions Trevor had asked him. He needed more time.

When they were all dried off and dressed Adrian led them through the path which curved upwards and eventually exited outside. It was steep and winding, and he had only put a couple torches here because he knew it would be some time before they made their way through. The warm air from the cavern made Adrian’s still damp hair flutter around him as they traversed the uneven rocky path. The trail eventually widened and leveled out for the last few hundred feet and after a few more bends and turns the mouth of the cave loomed ahead, washed in the glow of the moon. It was nearly full now, waxing through the last quarter. He couldn’t believe it had been so many weeks since he’d seen it. The night was clear and cool, a sharp contrast from the cave’s humid warmth. He enjoyed the feel of the cold on his skin as he stretched to his full height, no longer concerned about knocking his head on low hanging formations in the caves.

“Oh this is even more beautiful than the cavern,” Sypha breathed as she emerged from the jagged opening and stepped out onto the grass. The smell of smoke and meat was heavy in the air, coming from about a hundred feet away where Adrian had found a good flat area to do most of his preparations that afternoon. The whole sky was bare and cold, filled with millions of tiny glittering stars. It was a sight for sore eyes and for a moment it took his breath away. He hopped easily up onto one of the taller rock ledges and simply stood there, appreciating his own freedom and the gorgeous expanse of wilderness that yawned in every direction until his eyes couldn’t pick out the details. The only thing that broke up the view was the ruined Belmont Estate, set far behind them. Even that was beautiful somehow, the way it had been torn apart and was slowly being swallowed back up by the forest. Everything else was the night. He felt a strange twinge of emotion work through him at the feeling of the open air on his skin and the sound of frogs and insects humming all around. He could hear coyotes laughing to one another somewhere far in the distance.

He had seen all of this in the daytime, but between the harsh sun and his own need to remain occupied he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate it. Now it felt real. He felt alive with the night around him and nearly joyful at his own freedom. It made him want to shift into the wolf and run and run until he was panting hard and fast. It felt so good that he could do that again, that he could go anywhere and be fearless and strong. He put a hand to his heart, overcome for a moment by the realization that the horror was over and he was free. Perhaps it hadn’t really sunk in until this moment. The wind whipping over the rocks and pulling his hair wildly around him, the smells of earth and water and the forest. He was free. He was out of that horrible torture chamber and nothing would ever trap him again.

Trevor and Sypha were also appreciating the view, the expanse of vastness around them. He could hear their teeth chattering in the cold. He’d thought of that. They needed more protection than he did. He’d brought wool blankets and had set up the cooking fire in a more protected area which was shielded by the tall rocks on two sides. He took another second to appreciate the view then hopped easily from the high ledge and joined them, leading them to the flickering glow of the fires. The meat was ready to be packed away, the smoke having mostly died off. He’d done his best to craft a rudimentary structure to trap the smoke so it would work into the meat and preserve it. He’d sliced it all into thin strips and they now had several large bundles of meat to take with them wherever they traveled next. There had been a second fire, as he had needed to prepare several different items. This one he’d let die out, and he already had dry wood stacked beside it so they could light it anew.

“Sypha, would you light the fire?” he asked as he set up the wood in the center. She crouched beside it and called fire to her fingertips, igniting the small kindling and working the flame up until they had a bright, warm campfire crackling away and casting flickers of shadow all around. He wrapped one of the wool blankets over her shoulders after she sat down and she smiled at him as she pulled it around her shoulders. Trevor accepted the other one appreciatively, pulling it around himself to stave off the chill. They both still had damp hair and only light clothing. Trevor’s fur cape was hanging to dry in the cave – he’d given it a much needed washing earlier in the day.

Adrian couldn’t bring himself to sit down just yet. He had not been expecting the pleasure that he’d feel at finally being out in the cold forest. It was calling to him. He wanted to hunt, even though he was still mostly sated by the huge meal they’d shared, and the massive amount of blood he’d consumed that morning. He decided to perch atop one of the tall rocks that was shielding the fire from the wind. He needed that sensation of being untethered. It was working wonders on his battered psyche. He could feel both Trevor and Sypha watching him, probably wondering why he wasn’t coming to sit with them. He didn’t care. He needed this and he was going to take it.

They didn’t fall into conversation right away. Each of them seemed to take something different from the staggering views and the vast expanse of wilderness. Adrian savoured the openness, the wind, the cold. Sypha was staring into the tongues of flame, evidently enjoying the warmth on her face and the familiarity of being gathered around as they were. Trevor was leaning against the tall stones at his back, eyes closed as he let the heat work into his feet. Adrian could see that both of them were still tired. They had been on the road for so long with minimal resources, it would take more than a few hours of sleep to restore them. As he watched them relax he felt a little better too. That edge of panic that was becoming an unwelcome but constant companion seemed much father away once he got out of the Hold and the caves. Maybe that was what he needed. A change of scenery. Fresh air. Something to make him forget. After a few quiet minutes he saw Sypha scoot closer to Trevor. He wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, still watching the flames. Trevor looked up to him.

“Would you come and sit with us?” he asked quietly enough that it might have been swallowed up by the wind were his hearing less acute. He nodded and silently dropped down. He came to sit beside Trevor. The heat of the fire washed over him, blanketing him in warmth. The rocks were doing a good job of blocking the wind. He was glad he’d found this spot.

Trevor was watching him intently, and Sypha looked like she was slowly falling asleep, though her eyes were still open. He’d spent enough time with them by now that he knew when she was drifting off. “Its better out here, isn’t it,” Trevor said after several minutes. Adrian pinned him with a curious look.

“I mean you seem more relaxed than in the Hold.”

“Anything is better than that place,” he said with a curl of his lip.

“Well, we still might need to spend some time in it. At least until we find what we’re looking for.”

He resisted the urge to snarl at the thought of that. If it weren’t a massive source of knowledge he would like nothing more than to destroy the whole thing, burn it, flood it, fill it with rocks so nobody could ever set foot in that wretched place again. For now he would have to content himself to spend as little time inside its walls as possible. “I hope we find something soon. Perhaps I will sleep out here in the meantime.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Trevor said, his tone changing. “You know, we miss you too. None of us wanted this shit to happen like it did. I know you went through Hell in that thing, but it was Hell to watch you suffer too. It was shit to be helpless to do anything for you and now that you’re out everything is wrong. Its like you’re still in there, like the bars are still in the way. I want to touch you. I want to make you feel better. You won’t even let me near you,” Trevor sat up a little straighter, his voice getting a bit louder as he spoke. Sypha had dropped off beside him, slack with sleep. Her face crinkled at Trevor’s movements and she shifted so her head was in his lap and she was curled up on her side. Trevor stroked her hair as he spoke, but his eyes were on Adrian. He was surprised at the emotion there, at the intensity. Usually he hid everything behind a wall of humour and cynicism, but his cold blue stare was flashing with poorly restrained bitterness. Half his face was cast in shadow from the fire. Adrian stared back at him, surprised and caught off-guard by his admissions. He considered how best to respond. He didn’t want to argue. He had said so many times to himself that he needed to face these new fears – he wanted to – but it was hard to find the words when he didn’t fully understand his own feelings.

“Trevor, I’m trying.”

Trevor’s mouth worked into a deep frown. “You have to try harder.”

“I… want to,” he trailed, a mix of sadness and mounting frustration working through him. “You said earlier that there isn’t a rule book for all of this, that we’d figure it out. I need time-”

“I said _we’d_ figure it out. I meant all of us. Together. You worked your ass off today. I know you did, I know that you didn’t stop for a second. You’ve filled every minute since you got out of that thing with activity, work, whatever. You did more by yourself today than most people can do in a whole week. Now its time to relax and you don’t even want to sit at the fire together. Its not just that you won’t let me touch you. You’re putting walls up to keep us out. Why? Can’t you give me something? Help me understand? I’m not great at this emotional shit. I’ve spent most of my life killing things and trying to stay drunk enough not to think in between. But this is important. Could you at least _try_ to explain it to me?”

Adrian could hear Trevor’s heart hammering away, the pulse point at his throat was fluttering quickly. He trying to be open, to be honest about where he was coming from; he was asking for Adrian to give him something. He had to. He needed to at least meet him halfway. He took a deep breath, trying to think about how to express the twist of fear and loathing and other things that were bouncing around inside him. He suddenly wished he had his father’s perception, his charisma. The man always knew how to talk to people, how to persuade them to his way of thinking and he could understand them well, even given very little to go on. He knew how to express himself clearly and effectively. Trevor had it too, whether he realized it or not. Adrian had never had an easy time with that. He took more after his mother – he liked to state the hard facts and work from them – but it made him seem cold or disconnected sometimes. It was hard to relate to people that way. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, feeling like nothing he could say would possibly express what he felt. Trevor was looking at him still, studying him, trying to get something from his blank face. Finally he put his hand out, closing it around Adrian’s cold fingers and squeezing them as if he needed the contact, as if it might help form a bridge that they could communicate over.

“Adrian, please. Please talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. Tell me anything. You don’t have to go through this alone,” the intense expression softened marginally, he had never seen Trevor look this way. He really needed to try to put some of this to words.

“I… keep… reliving it,” he said finally, each word coming with difficulty, as though he had to yank it from his breast to speak it aloud.

“Reliving which part?” Trevor asked, his voice soft like he didn’t want to interrupt the possibility that Adrian would say more.

“Different parts, not always the same. The worst parts,” he answered slowly. As he said a bit, the words came a little easier, flowed with less resistance.

Trevor had his hand in both of his now, like he didn’t want to let go of the tenuous connection which was beginning to form. “Is that what happened in the cavern? When you panicked?”

He had to think about that for a second. What exactly _had_ happened there? He’d seen himself for the first time. He’d seen what was left over. They physical reminders of being staked through and through, of being poisoned. The physical evidence of what had transpired immediately brought back certain things, like the feeling of the poison burning him incessantly, or the sensation of drowning in his own blood. That had been terrifying, but those things were only part of it. There was also the helplessness. The terror of being left alone forever, of thinking they were dead. The horror of feeling himself desiccate and dry up while he still lived. The confusing degeneration of his own mind breaking down into something like he imagined an animal. He couldn’t reconcile those things with himself. It felt like they had happened to someone else, but the scars made it real. He could not possibly describe the loathsome sensation of wanting to kill so badly it was nearly a fantasy. It was not him. It was not part of Adrian Tepes. He was reminded of a previous consideration: there was no beast or devil inside him. There was no defined good and evil. He just was. The distasteful things were part of him as surely as his humanity. How could he explain any of that to Trevor? How could a human understand something like that?

“In the cavern… I hadn’t seen yet. I didn’t know that there were so many scars,” he tried, though it was a woefully inadequate explanation for what the markings did to him. A violent shudder made him shrink back and he pulled his hand free, curling his arms around his knees and resting his chin on them. Trevor was watching him very closely, hardly blinking.

“They’re just scars. You’re a vampire, they’ll heal. Fuck I’m covered in them and mine won’t. I don’t really care. Why is it such a big deal?”

Adrian looked at the fire and forced himself to stifle the flare of anger that bubbled up when Trevor said that. He reached over and put another piece of wood on. It hissed and popped as residual moisture evaporated in the flames. “It makes it real,” he said finally, knowing that wasn’t enough. “I can’t forget any of it. When I saw them… I was there again.”

Trevor was the one who needed to consider his response now. He looked ready to speak more than once. He raised a hand like he wanted to put it on Adrian’s back, but he withdrew that as well. “They’ll heal soon, won’t they?” he said finally, perhaps realizing that it wasn’t helpful to go over every horrifying detail just now. Especially not when everything was still fresh.

“Maybe,” Adrian answered, but it sounded like a _no._

“Why not? I’ve never seen a vampire with scars except you. Is it because you’re half?”

“… No.”

“Then why wouldn’t they heal?”

“Trevor,” Adrian’s voice held an edge of warning. He didn’t want to discuss this.

“Look, I’m just trying to understand. You aren’t giving me much to go on,” his increasing exasperation was bleeding through. Adrian could see how hard he was trying to be patient with his minimal answers. He was becoming more agitated, fidgeting. Sypha groaned and opened her eyes, looking at both of them.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asked, yawning.

“Just for a few minutes,” Adrian answered her, thankful for the distraction.

She smiled at him. “Its so nice here, I love sleeping under the stars.”

He smiled at her as Trevor carefully eased out from under her. “Gotta piss,” he muttered and walked around the fire to find a tree to mark. When he was out of earshot Sypha gave Adrian an apologetic look.

“I heard you talking,” she admitted. “He’s worried about you. We both are. I’m glad you’re talking about it. Its good to do that. Its cathartic.”

Adrian shrugged, “Doesn’t feel that way.”

Sypha sat up, dusting pine needles from her blanket. “Keep trying. It will get easier.”

Adrian didn’t say anything. Sypha favoured him with a knowing look. “I know you don’t have an easy time talking about your feelings. Neither does Trevor, but you both need to. It will help you heal.”

He wanted to tell her that was impossible but she sounded absolutely certain, and wise beyond her years. He sighed, knowing she was probably right. She inched closer to him. “He is carrying a lot of guilt about what happened.”

“I know its not his fault,” Adrian said, though there was absolutely a childish part of him that wanted very much to blame Trevor for dragging him into the Hold and causing all of this.

“Maybe you should tell him that,” Sypha answered. He stared at her blankly. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Just be honest with each other. I’m tired, I’m going to sleep more. I like hearing you talking around me. Its comforting and I missed it when we were apart.”

She wrapped the blanket around herself and readjusted her position, curling up with her back to the large stones and her face resting on her forearm, the glow of the fire playing over her features. Adrian’s fingers went to his cheek where she’d kissed him, thinking about what she’d said. There was rustling in the bushes and Trevor emerged, returning to his seat and pulling the wool around his shoulders. He crossed his legs and looked into the fire. Adrian watched his face, studied him, trying to see what he was thinking. Trevor met his gaze and they looked at one another for a long minute, neither speaking. He thought hard about what Sypha had just said to him. He couldn’t explain every little thing, and Trevor always seemed to ask the hardest questions, to push his buttons. He was infuriating. While he was sure that sometimes it was intentional, tonight Trevor had been doing his best to be understanding and to respect that Adrian was having a hard time with all of this. He had literally begged him to talk to him, to give him something.

He inched a bit closer, until their knees and elbows brushed together. He pulled one of Trevor’s hands into his lap, the reverse of what the hunter had done to him a few minutes ago. At least it was some physical contact, since he seemed to need that especially. They stared into the fire.

Trevor leaned a little closer. He moved slowly, giving every opportunity for Adrian to withdraw. He tentatively pushed his nose into Adrian’s hair, against his temple. He inhaled deeply and pressed a light kiss to his hair. Adrian could hear his heart beating quickly, could smell the familiar scent of his breath, still flavoured with meat and wine. Trevor leaned his forehead against the side of Adrian’s head and buried his nose into his hair, and Adrian knew that he was breathing in his scent. Trevor’s broad shoulders trembled. He withdrew, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a steadying breath. The hand in Adrian’s curled around his fingers tightly, squeezing. His need for contact was nearly palpable, and Adrian suddenly had a sense of how much he was working to restrain himself.

He felt something in his chest breaking, felt himself softening at the realization. He twisted, adjusting his position so he could look at him better. Trevor met his gaze with another small tremor and Adrian saw him swallow deliberately, his eyes watching every move that Adrian made. Trevor’s heart was hammering in his chest so hard he thought Sypha could probably hear it.

He leaned closer until he could feel Trevor’s breaths against his lips. Slowly, deliberately, he tipped his head forward and closed the distance between them, pressing his mouth against Trevor’s. He was startled at the sharp intake of breath and the way Trevor tensed all over and then melted against him, his mouth opening, yielding to his kiss. When they had kissed before Trevor had always been voracious, devouring him, biting his lips, sucking them, rolling their tongues together, tracing his fangs. Trevor had sought to consume him with his kiss, coax the pleasure out of him. This was wholly new and different. He was restraining himself bodily, he was allowing Adrian to explore him, to part his lips and seek entrance with his tongue, taste his mouth without that hungry intensity that was so characteristic of him. Adrian’s hand found its way along Trevor’s arm, sliding up slowly over the different muscle groups, past his shoulder, along his neck and finally into the short hairs at the nape of his neck, fingers curling against the base of his skull.

Trevor made a tiny noise of pleasure, a small moan and he sank against Adrian, meeting each movement of his lips and tongue in turn, allowing the dhampir to dictate exactly how deeply the kiss went. When Adrian released him he was panting, his heart still racing audibly. They rested their foreheads together for several breaths before Adrian withdrew, putting a little distance between them again and removing his hand from Trevor’s hair to rest it back in his lap.

“I still need time,” Adrian said after several minutes of silence, “But I will try not to shut you out.”

“Thank you,” Trevor answered him, still holding his hand tightly. The fire hissed and popped.

Adrian felt better, somehow.

They watched the fire in silence for a long time. Adrian made sure to keep it going strong, adding larger logs as the bed of embers was able to support them. The wind died and the night grew cold. The moon found its way higher into the sky and everything was so still that he could hear the tiniest flutter of leaves in the nearby trees, and the sounds of animals moving through the brush. Eventually Adrian could see Trevor and Sypha’s breath when they exhaled. They had curled up together, Trevor laying down behind Sypha and wrapping his arms around her to stop her from shivering. He seemed unwilling to fall asleep; he kept looking back at Adrian as if he expected him to vanish.

He rose after some time, stretching his legs and looking down at the pair cuddled together at the edge of the roaring fire. Trevor peeked at him sleepily in question.

“I need to run, I’ll be back,” he said quietly, by way of explanation. He didn’t want him to worry if he wasn’t there when he next woke. Also, he wanted to give Trevor something, to let him know that he was trying. Trevor raised a brow and Adrian walked a few paces away from the fire and called the soul of the wolf, his eyes glowing red for a moment as his body shifted. He fell forward onto large paws, the transformation taking only seconds. He stretched indulgently, giving himself a shake from head to tail and allowing Trevor to stare at him for a long moment in obvious and childlike amazement.

“You’re shitting me,” he heard the hunter say under his breath as he sat up. Adrian turned gold eyes at him, staring at him quietly before disappearing into the trees.

He had missed this, and he was quite serious when he’d said he needed to run. He could feel it inside him, tugging at him, the need to move, to race through the trees and let his claws dig into the earth. He could run faster this way than any other and after everything he’d been through he absolutely needed that. It felt incredible to finally be free. He pushed himself hard, covering many miles at supernatural speed, leaping across a massive gorge, tearing across a huge open meadow so fast a human eye would not be able to track him.

Maybe an hour or so later he returned, padding softly back towards the fire, the smell of smoke and humans easy to pick out in the unoccupied wilderness. As he approached the crackling fire he released the soul of the wolf, resuming his normal shape and stepping silently out from the trees. Trevor and Sypha were fast asleep. He sat down beside them and leaned back on the large stones, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off. Trevor’s hand curled around his fingers a few minutes later and he blinked at him, yawning. Trevor patted the ground behind him and lifted the edge of his blanket. Adrian nodded and crawled under it, curling against the hunter’s back and falling deeply asleep under the stars.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my work and for all of the amazing comments I have received. It means so much to me to know that other people may be enjoying this.


	14. Part Fourteen

**Part Fourteen**

It was only a few short hours before the sky began to lighten and the sun rose, breaking over the trees to the east and washing everything in dawn light. It had not been enough sleep, and the ground was damp and uncomfortable. The fire had died down to a warm pile of embers, still glowing faintly beneath the skeletal ashes of burnt logs. Adrian didn’t particularly appreciate sleeping in the dirt. In fact, before beginning his travels with his human companions he had always enjoyed comfort and often luxury, either in the form of a proper bed with an overstuffed feather mattress and clean, fine linens or his casket, which was furnished with the best quality velvet that was available. That was a far cry from pine needles and scratchy wool.

Trevor and Sypha didn’t seem to mind sleeping anywhere they landed and didn’t complain about it. They did, however, fidget and toss and generally make proper rest all but impossible by waking him with their movements every time he drifted off. He tried to imagine either of them in the peaceful stillness of his personal coffin. He had to smile at that. Certainly Trevor would last all of five minutes before his inability to lie still would drive them both crazy and he kicked him out. He didn’t imagine Sypha would be much different. She was… an active sleeper. She never stayed in one position for long and she mumbled in her sleep and twitched with her dreams. A casket was no place for living people anyhow, although he personally found it very relaxing and rather missed the deep and restorative sleep he got in complete darkness and silence. There was something very relaxing about it.

As it was the sun had risen enough that it was glaring down on him and he had pulled the blanket over his head in effort to block it, but it was still shining through the holes in the knit and he was absolutely fed up with Trevor yanking the little corner of blanket he’d secured off of him every time he turned around. He did not want to go back inside the Hold, but he resigned himself to the necessity of it if he wanted to escape the unpleasant searing brightness that made him squint and made his skin hurt. He sat up and poked Trevor and Sypha with a finger.

“Hey, lets go back inside,” he suggested as they rose with a bleary collection of yawns and groans.

“What time is it?” Sypha asked, brushing herself off and standing.

“Too early,” Adrian grumbled, quickly collecting what he could carry from their camp, including the bundled preserved meat and the extra blankets.

Trevor was following suit back into the mouth of the cave, which was now pitch black since the torches had died. With the help of a flame summoned to Sypha’s hand the trio made their way back through the maze of tunnels and found their way to the cots which suddenly seemed far more appealing than they had before. Adrian had never thought he would be happy to come back here, but there was apparently a first time for everything.

Trevor immediately threw himself onto the middle of the two small cots which had been pushed together, arms akimbo. He was snoring again in minutes, heedless of his position stretched over both beds. Sypha climbed in beside him and followed suit, leaving Adrian to try and work out somewhere to unfold his long legs in effort to get comfortable. He watched the pair sleep for a few minutes, reflecting on the past evening’s events.

The talking the night before had been brief, but he had to admit that there was a certain catharsis achieved by making himself open up a bit. Sypha had been correct about that. By no means was he over everything, but at the very least he felt some of the pressure lift, some of the panic recede a bit further. It wasn’t closing in on him from every direction and making him shiver or tremble at the slightest brush of a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps even more beneficial had been the unexpected sensation of joy and freedom that had come with being out in the cold night air. He had needed that very, very badly. Draining some of the anxiety through running had also helped. He wondered if Trevor would pester him about his wolf form, but decided not to worry about that. It had not been a secret that he could take other shapes, he simply had never volunteered the details. He’d decided to reveal it as a way of demonstrating that he was trying to be more open. He fully expected questions. He would endeavor to answer at least some of them.

He drifted off a short time after, but his sleep was anything but restful.

The nightmares began shortly. They were vivid, impossible to distinguish from reality. He was impaled once more, trapped in a Hell of burning pain and helpless weakness, unable to move or scream out loud. He thrashed on the floor of the cage as a growing pool of dark blood seeped out of him. So much blood, an impossible amount. It just kept flowing like water, coating the floor, becoming deeper and swallowing his body in a wave of red. It filled his mouth, got in his eyes, covered his head until he was staring up at the surface from bloody depths, reaching in vain for freedom that he could not secure. He felt himself suffocating, drowning, losing consciousness, then he blacked out and when he startled awake he was still trapped in the nightmare beneath waves of blood and the process repeated all over. It burned him, melted his skin until his hand was skeletal, bony clawed fingers reaching for the black and far away surface as he once more drowned in the endless blood. He was trapped in a nightmare loop of drowning over and over until finally he saw something glowing ahead of him in the dark, two red points that burned bright and grew nearer. He reached out, trying to help himself, trying to reach something that he could never touch. The red points slowly took the form of eyes, familiar red eyes that could only belong to his father.

He tried to speak, tried to scream for help and reach out to him but his father only stared as his body wasted and shriveled and weakened until he could do nothing. He drowned once more, the blackness rolling over everything and pulling him into blessed darkness. When his eyes popped open his father was there, directly in front of him and there was a horrific pain in his chest. He looked down to see a powerful, clawed hand tear into him and extract his heart. It was yanked from his breast and his father held it between them with a pause, the burning red eyes looking on him dispassionately. He crushed the organ with a spray of red that dissipated into the already saturated background of blood. Adrian felt himself die again, watched himself break apart and begin to disintegrate into dust that swirled away.

“Adrian wake up!”

He shot straight out of the cot in an instant, sinking into a defensive pose some feet away, crouched at the ready, claws extended, eyes darting from side to side to identify the threat. He hissed, confused as to what was attacking him, but realized that there was nothing. He looked around once more as if he might have missed something but it was only Sypha and Trevor standing beside the cot with expressions of worry on their faces. He sagged, releasing his position and leaning against the comforting cold stone of the wall at his back, panting and bodily working to arrest the tremors that were rushing through him. His hand ran over his chest to assure himself that his heart was still safely tucked behind his ribs and he realized quickly that it had only been a dream. He leaned his head back, invoking the hardness of the stone as evidence of the fact that this was reality. He slid his hand along the rock, soothed by its unyielding coldness as his heart slowed to a more manageable pace and he regained his senses.

Sypha appeared in front of him, crouching down, her large eyes filled with concern. “It was just a dream,” she assured him when he finally met her gaze. He nodded, working to compose himself. He closed his eyes and when he opened them she was still there, real and alive. He stood, reluctant to remove his hand from the wall, but unwilling to let on how deeply the nightmare shook him in front of them. He forced himself to walk over to the cot and sit down. Sypha followed him and offered him one of the water canteens. He accepted it and drank several cool swallows before handing it back to her. Trevor had been watching this, but he didn’t say anything or make any move to comfort him, for which he was grateful. He had been coddled enough. He could manage a little dream without crumbling into hysterics; he was not a child.

“What time is it?” he asked them after another moment.

“Its after noon,” Sypha answered him. “We all slept long, its been a hard few weeks. We just got up too. You were crying out in your sleep,” she was still studying him, her hand closing reassuringly over his shoulder. He shrugged out from under it, not missing the crestfallen look that flashed on her features as he did.

Adrian considered them. They both looked much better than yesterday, less wilted and more solid. Yes, the extra sleep had been good for all of them. Well, most of them.

He rose from the cot and stretched his legs, raking his fingers through his hair to smooth it out. “I suppose we can finally begin combing this place for something useful,” he commented, wanting to do something to keep the focus off of himself.

“Can we eat first?” Trevor cut in, holding his stomach. It gurgled. “I’m hungry.”

Adrian pointed to the large amount of smoked bear meat. “There’s plenty of that,” he suggested.

Trevor eyed it, evidently unimpressed. “What you made yesterday was so good, I thought there might be some stuff left.”

“Well aren’t you spoiled,” Adrian answered with amusement.

“Yes,” Sypha said, “You spoiled us by hunting for us, you have to do it forever now,” she gave him a cute look.

He smiled at her. She didn’t play the cute card very often but she was surprisingly good at it. He thought he’d probably do whatever she wanted if she made that expression when she asked. “I’ll think about it,” he told her and grabbed some of the dried meat, biting into a piece as he began to poke through the books and various items around the Hold. He heard Trevor complaining under his breath and Sypha disappeared somewhere on one of the higher floors, nosing through the spines of literally thousands of books. It might be helpful if they had some idea of what they were actually looking for, rather than randomly browsing around through so much material. He’d come across a few interesting items the day before, but he hadn’t put much effort into examining any of them at the time. He had been focused on finding things to eat off of or wear.

Eventually he found himself standing in front of the glass case he had previously glimpsed only from behind the bars of the cage. Up close he could much more clearly see the many white skulls of deceased vampires, each of them cleaned and lined up carefully with numbered tags beside them and a small bit of information about each one. His attention was drawn again to the smaller one, the child’s skull. It really disturbed him to see that. Trevor’s ancestor’s were savage killers. It was no wonder they had been so feared by his kind, and so loathed. There wasn’t much that could effectively kill a vampire, save a stake to the heart, decapitation, or prolonged exposure to sunlight. His father had always been wary of moving water as well, but Adrian had yet to see a vampire have difficulty hopping over a river. The real secret to the Belmont’s success was the use of silver and consecrated weapons, magic, and timing. His father had explained at length that they attacked just before dawn or in the middle of the day, and made to force their prey into the light. It was one reason why it was so important to rest in a secure place, so that if an attack came they would not be vulnerable or trapped. They were also fond of holy spells, which were most effective against vampires.

All of this he had learned as a child, perhaps not much older than the one who’s skull was mounted in this glass case like a trophy. His lip curled in displeasure at the sight.

Many of the methods employed by hunters would not work on him, for which he supposed he should be thankful. The consecrated weapons did not affect his body like they did night creatures or full vampires. Salt and holy water did nothing. Sunlight was unpleasant and prevented him from using certain abilities, but it would not harm him. Silver, however, was effective. It made his flesh burn and smoke, and it could weaken and restrain him as well. He had to be wary of the shiny metal. Magic had mixed results. Most of it was just as effective on him as on anything else. He could perform magic as well, under the right circumstances. He had learned some spells from his father, but they were not something he used often. In fact at present he could not use them at all, and had not been able to for many years. He felt more comfortable fighting with his body anyhow, and his sword. It was absolutely his preferred weapon. Given to him by his mother, he had connected with the blade easily. He could wield it with a mere thought, feel it as an extension of himself, like an extra limb. When he touched it it hummed pleasantly under his fingertips, almost purring. The sword liked him. It wasn’t sentient, but it had a magical presence which responded strongly to him and they came easily together in harmony. He had spent many hours practicing with the blade when he’d first received it. Initially he had only been able to make it wobble uselessly into the air before it clattered to the ground and laid still. When he was distracted or angry it was harder to control it. It was strongest when he was focused and calm, so he had learned to always fight that way. His father had been most persistent in drilling that particular thing into him for as long as he could remember. A flustered, frightened or angry enemy was one with weakness to exploit. He had taken to the lesson well after he understood it, and it had made learning to wield the sword far easier.

Trevor pulled him from his thoughts, sidling up to him in front of the display. “Friends of yours?”

“That’s in poor taste, Belmont,” he answered flatly, pinning the hunter with a frown.

“I think all of these were killers,” Trevor answered him, as if that justified displaying the heads this way.

Adrian stared again at the small skull and chose to hold his tongue, not wishing to let the hunter provoke an argument. “Did you find something?” he asked instead.

“Oh I’m useless with all these books and magical things,” Trevor admitted. “I can only read one language and most of the shit here isn’t written in it. Sypha will be wrapped up in those books for hours. We should check on her in awhile and see if she’s found anything.”

“Hm,” Adrian answered, looking over the other skulls distractedly. He knew he should probably be helping Sypha with sifting through the texts, as he was fluent or at least familiar with a few languages. A large hand came to rest gently at the small of his back. He glanced to the side, meeting blue eyes.

“What were you dreaming about? You were ready to take one of our heads off when we woke you.”

Of course he _would_ ask about something uncomfortable that he didn’t want to share. Adrian had to wonder if the man sat up in the night and planned how best to get under his skin. He shook his head. “Nothing important.”

There was a little huff of breath, Trevor was evidently not satisfied by his response. “Oh _fine_ ,” he said with exaggerated exasperation. “Moving on, here.”

There was a familiar humming sensation and his sword and scabbard were pressed into his chest. He blinked at the hunter, wrapping his fingers around the leather sheath which kept the deadly edge of the sword protected when it was not in use. Trevor was wearing his gear, he realized. He hadn’t noticed as he was focused on the display case and its macabre contents. He had his belts on – daggers at the ready on his chest and his whip and short sword at his waist. He looked ready for a fight, a sharp glint in his eye that Adrian had seen many times. The man lived for it, he knew that well. He thrived in battle, and if he were disarmed was especially skilled at turning virtually anything around him into a weapon on short notice. There was no question that warrior’s blood flowed through Trevor Belmont’s veins, but that didn’t mean he had a chance.

“You don’t seriously think you can beat me,” Adrian scoffed, fastening the belts of his weapon at his hips. He enjoyed the familiar press of the crossed bands of leather over his clothes. It felt good to wear the blade again. He ran a bare hand along the hilt, enjoying the way the sword resonated beneath his fingertips.

“I did before,” Trevor answered him smugly. “Or did you forget having my dagger pressed between your ribs?”

Adrian stuck his nose in the air. As if he would have let that dagger go any further. He’d been playing nice. “That hardly qualified as a win. I would have ripped your throat out had you pushed any further.”

“Oh we’ll see about that,” Trevor met his barb confidently. “We should probably go outside though, or we’ll wreck some priceless crap.”

There was a challenge standing in the doorway and he was more than ready to rise to it. Just as he had needed to run and savour the freedom of the cold night before, he knew he would benefit from this as well. He could not bring himself to back down from the opportunity to beat Trevor in a fight. It had been close last time – a tie in his opinion – but he knew the hunter better now, knew his technique. Trevor knew him as well, and would be ready for his speed and the long reach of his estoc-style blade. A pleasant tingle of anticipation flourished as he prepared to meet the challenge.

A few minutes later they were standing some distance from the mouth of the cave in a large clearing. The brightness of the morning sun had thankfully waned, the afternoon was grey and the clouds were thick and threatened to open up any minute. Adrian could feel a distinct energy in the air – there was a storm coming. The leaves on the deciduous trees were turned up and a warm wind gusted strangely in the wrong direction. Electricity vibrated in the air. He inhaled the humid bouquet of earth and dead leaves. He glanced at Trevor. The hunter was making a similar observation, eyeing the approaching darkened mass of low clouds that was blowing in from the east.

“Its gonna storm.”

Adrian nodded. “It will be beautiful from up here. Maybe we can convince Sypha to leave the books for awhile and watch it with us.”

“How romantic,” Trevor teased and Adrian smiled. It _did_ sound that way to him. He loved thunderstorms.

Trevor raised a brow at him. “You know its stupid to stand on a high point holding a metal blade in the middle of a lightning storm, right? I’m sure you aren’t zap-proof; I’m definitely not.”

He shrugged. “I’m not worried.”

“It must be nice,” he commented and Adrian had to wonder what he meant by that. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” Trevor answered. “To have the best of both worlds. All the vamp perks and almost none of the weaknesses. I’m not saying I’d want it for myself, just making an observation.”

Adrian considered that. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. He supposed he couldn’t deny that it was a good feeling to be powerful and fast. He relished it, but he’d always felt pulled between two worlds, never really belonging in either. He was an outsider, even in his own family. The advantages of his parentage were certainly not lost on him, but there were downsides. He knew they would become more prevalent over time. For now it seemed like he often had the upper hand, but those strengths may one day eat him alive as he tried over and over to formulate meaningful relationships which expired as those he knew and loved faded and he remained always the same. It was hard for him to really grasp because he was young, but he knew it would pick away at the softness in him until he became cold and hard out of necessity. Both of his parents had warned him of it. As a person who already struggled to connect with others he expected that it would be especially difficult when he lost those he grew close to. This loomed at the back of his mind as something he understood to be true but had yet to endure. He frowned. There were many things that were hard to share with humans. This was one of them.

“Its… not terrible,” he answered after a moment to think on it. “I’ve never known anything else.”

“Well,” Trevor said and grabbed his whip, moving to stand several paces away and turning to face Adrian, the leather creaking as he readied it between his hands. “You’re gonna know all about my boot up your ass in a minute.” The pine needles crunched as he sank into a preparatory stance, his eyes alight with challenge.

Adrian cleared his mind and readied himself. He let all his thoughts fade to the backdrop as his focus on himself and his opponent took front and center. He would not lose. He stood still and tall and allowed Trevor to come to him.

The whip whooshed as it sailed through the air, reaching nearly twenty feet with ease. It gave Trevor the ability to fight out of the range of his blade, _if_ he could maintain the movement and distance. He had to admit that Trevor was very proficient with it and handled it easily, striking repeatedly and using the momentum of the weapon’s return to twist and throw the next attack. Adrian dodged the first several strikes, knowing that Trevor would tire more quickly if he simply moved out of the way and made him work to attack over and over. He stepped aside of the next lash and saw the hunter adjust his position, jerking sharply and sending the whip snapping at him unexpectedly. It struck him in the back, lashing through his shirt and slicing a thin line over his scapula. It stung. He expected gloating but evidently Trevor knew better than to waste focus on that and he redoubled his efforts, recalling the whip and twisting to send it out again. As Adrian prepared to dodge the next attack a dagger flew through the air and whizzed by his head on the right just as the whip slashed the space to his left. He ducked out of the reach of both attacks and landed low, his lip curling in a snarl.

He raced forward as Trevor was recoiling the whip in his hand, but the man was prepared. He was already attacking once more, forcing Adrian to draw his sword to block the short quick lash that would have struck his chest as he came into range. Trevor may be fast, but Adrian was far faster. His aura glowed as he disappeared from in front of Trevor, reappearing an instant later behind him to level what should have been a killing blow to the hunter’s neck, but Trevor knew this attack and was ready, parrying his strike with his short sword. There was a screech of metal on metal as the estoc ground against the short sword down to the guard and Trevor forced him back a step, grinning. Adrian moved with the back-step, turning it into a quick somersault and landing on his feet several paces further away. He wasted no time in twisting out of the path of the next strike that came from the sword. He launched a graceful kick and struck Trevor in the leg, pushing him off balance. The hunter moved into a roll to use the momentum to get away but Adrian was expecting that and had his blade ready. When he came out of the roll Adrian had the tip of his blade just about at the hunter’s chest, but Trevor easily diverted the attack downwards with the cross guard of his weapon. He jammed the point of Adrian’s sword into the dirt and Adrian was forced to take an extra second to fall back to free it. As he did Trevor was back on him with the whip. Adrian waited until he was just at the point of throwing the ranged attack forward and disappeared once more with a sear of red. He reappeared to Trevor’s side. He knew the hunter would expect him to re-materialize behind him. Trevor had whirled and stabbed forward with his blade and Adrian was ready, cold metal hovering just against the hunter’s throat. Trevor froze, knowing immediately that he’d lost. He sheathed his sword with a glare.

Adrian gave him a smug look. “You’re dead.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered with a grin as Adrian took a tiny moment to bask in the pleasure of winning before withdrawing his weapon and sliding it back into the scabbard. Trevor was panting with his exertion; he had a flush on his face and chest. The wind swirled around them and they were pelted with the first fat, warm drops as the storm came in.

“Sometimes I forget how fast you are,” Trevor told him between pants. “Want to go again?”

The raindrops were steadily soaking them, although Adrian didn’t mind so much. “We can, if you don’t mind getting killed twice in one afternoon,” he said with a sly smile, making sure to show a hint of fang.

“You won’t get me twice,” Trevor shot back and whirled on him, quickly drawing his whip and going in for an attack. The leather wrapped around Adrian’s ankle and he was yanked off balance, his boots slipping in the mud, preventing him from gaining purchase. He was surprised that Trevor had managed to catch him off-guard but he was up in an instant, hovering a few inches off the ground to prevent such a tactic from working twice. He had stayed firmly planted on the earth during their first spar. Now he wasn’t going to bother with that. He would take full advantage of his abilities and poor Trevor would just have to slip around in the quickly deepening puddles and try to keep up.

The hunter was not fazed. He launched a continuous offensive barrage and Adrian dodged most of the attacks with ease, occasionally using his teleport to avoid being struck by the lashing end of the whip. As they circled around one another Trevor kept pushing, and while his attacks weren’t landing, it kept him busy enough that he wasn’t able to move in with many of his own. Trevor whirled, keeping the whip moving constantly. When he sent the next strike forward Adrian stuck out his forearm and allowed the leather to curl around it. It stung, and sliced his arm open where the weapon struck initially, but it allowed him to gain control of it. He the grabbed the whip and yanked forward before Trevor could recall it, relieving him of it and pulling the hunter down to his knees in the mud. He threw the irritating whip out of reach and closed in with the point of his blade. Trevor had his sword drawn before he’d even hit the ground and he parried the attack fluidly, pushing Adrian’s blade to the side. He already had a dagger in his other hand. He lunged forward, getting dangerously close as he tried to push it up into his stomach. Adrian felt the tip of the metal bite into his flesh and he snarled, claws out, knocking Trevor away with a powerful strike to his shoulder. The hunter twisted even as he was knocked down and tried to bring his sword around in a slash as he rolled into the mud. Adrian was on him in a second, one black leather boot crushing down on Trevor’s hand and a knee on his back as he pushed the hunter face down onto the mud and grabbed his hair, yanking his head to the side. He grazed his fangs over Trevor’s throat and the hunter stilled, cursing.

“Dead again, Belmont,” Adrian purred against his ear, dragging the points of his fangs along his skin as he put a little extra weight on his knee, forcing Trevor to wheeze. He felt the hunter shiver under him at the teeth against his neck and he could smell both of their blood. His instincts were getting riled up. Trevor smelled really good, flushed and sweating and bleeding from the claw marks on his shoulder.

“Alright, alright, get off me,” Trevor managed and Adrian held him there for another moment simply appreciating the sensation of the man pinned beneath him. He eyed the four slashes he’d left over the hunter’s right shoulder – they weren’t deep, but they were bleeding well enough, and the deeper wounds lower on his arm from the bear had reopened as well and were leaking red. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry as an unexpected desire to bite took him. He pushed it aside and hopped off of Trevor, offering him a hand up. The hunter took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He was muddy and breathing hard.

“You’re makin’ me look bad,” Trevor said sorely and he collected his daggers and wiped them clean, slipping them back into place.

“I’m more familiar with your technique than when we first fought,” Adrian countered, cleaning the rain from his sword with a dry corner of his shirt and sliding it back into the scabbard.

There was a flash of lightening and several seconds later the answering roll of thunder. The rain intensified, coming in faster and harder. The sky had darkened to the point that it almost looked like dusk; the storm was nearly on top of them now. Adrian realized suddenly that the outcome of the sparring had been intentional. Trevor had known he would lose, though he had certainly tried his hardest. At least Adrian was pretty sure he had – he couldn’t imagine Trevor insulting him by holding back. He stopped short, staring at the man who’s brown hair was darkening with moisture and sticking to the sides of his face. Trevor brushed it out of his eyes. Water dripped from the end of his nose and made his eyelashes cling together. The rain came in a torrent suddenly, and the sky split open with a bright flare of lightening. It was quickly followed with a crack of thunder that rumbled through them both and made Adrian’s teeth rattle in his skull. He closed his eyes, letting the powerful sensation wash over him with appreciation as the driving but warm rain soaked him completely in seconds and flattened his hair against his skull.

“You did this on purpose,” he said softly, his voice barely audible as the rain drowned out all other sounds.

Trevor grinned at him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered with no attempt to mask his lack of sincerity. He stepped closer to Adrian, so their chests were inches apart. The scent of his injuries was lessened by the downpour, which was diluting the blood and washing it away. His teeth flashed white in the dim grey.

Another bolt of lightening brightened the sky, changing the angle of the light and leaving them both blinking for a moment as they were swallowed by the roll of the resulting thunder. Trevor closed the distance between them, putting his arms around Adrian’s waist, his hands closing against his back, open palms smoothing over his shirt. He had mud on his chin. He stared into Adrian’s face, heedless of the driving rain. Their clothing was already dripping, the linen shirts had sucked up the water and were plastered against their skin. Trevor pulled their bodies firmly together so he could feel the rhythm of both their hearts, his eyes carefully searching for any sign of refusal or discomfort. Adrian felt it rising – the cold edge of panic that had not really left him since the cage – but it was being swallowed up by the pleasure of fighting and the power of the storm around them. It was, for the moment at least, tolerable. Each step forward he took with Sypha and Trevor was rendering it less powerful, less consuming. Each experience he placed between himself and the horror made it a little more manageable.

“I knew you’d enjoy a spar,” Trevor admitted, not letting him go. Adrian searched for his voice, but it eluded him at the moment. He felt like every nerve in his body was on high alert. Fighting had worked him up. His senses were sharpened, honed. He shivered slightly against Trevor’s heat, swallowing back the urge to bolt. He didn’t want to, not really. He wanted this, it was just scary.

Trevor kept one arm around his waist and brought his free hand to Adrian’s chest, splaying his fingers out over his breast. He could feel the hunter’s body, the heat and soundness of him, the ridge of his hip, the beginnings of firmness between his legs. Adrian was breathing harder, little flares of anxiety picking at him, but Trevor held him steady, his racing heart drumming under the hunter’s hand. He never broke their gaze as he slid the hand along Adrian’s chest and up to his face, careful to only touch the unmarked side of his throat as he trailed over it with the roughness of his palm. Adrian managed not to flinch away this time as the fingers touched his neck lightly. Trevor seemed very solid against him, very sturdy and strong, as though he would hold Adrian up if he could not do it himself. He cupped Adrian’s cheek in his hand and brushed a thumb over it, sliding his palm along the line of his jaw and back into his soaked hair. His eyes were flashing, glinting blue against the strange light of the storm. Adrian knew he wanted to kiss him. By the sensation of their bodies pressed so close he knew he wanted more than that, but he trusted at this point that Trevor was only asking him for a kiss. The man was driven, Adrian had to give him that. He was relentless in his pursuit, he tried every opportunity to get more, to take it a bit further. It was not his nature to sit idly and wait until Adrian was ready. He would coax him forward every inch that Adrian would give, and when he gained one he would try for the next.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Trevor said to him over the din of the rain, and he was reminded of that night by the lake. He’d said the same thing, but now there was far more behind his eyes. It meant something more than just the sum of the words themselves now, after everything. He stared, paralyzed by a mixture of apprehension and desire, his breath caught in his chest. He wanted to give in, he wanted to defeat the panic that had become so powerful that it had completely arrested all but the most innocent contact. Last night Trevor had allowed him to lead the kiss and he had been keenly aware of how it ran against his natural inclinations. Now those were bleeding through, brought forth by the mixture of adrenaline and testosterone that surged during the fight. The hunter’s skin was hot against him, the hand in his hair itching to tip his head forward and close the distance between them. Adrian hesitated, biting at his lip. He didn’t consider the way that looked, him sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, the point of one fang pressing into it as he worried at it. He saw the way Trevor’s eyes dropped to his mouth, he felt the body against him tighten all over and his heart speed up and then Trevor was releasing him with a shake of his head.

“Shit Adrian,” he said into the roar of the rain as he raked his fingers back through his hair and tried to compose himself. Adrian could see that he was hard. “You know what that does to me,” he said, accusing gently. “I don’t think I could stop at just a kiss right now.”

It was hard to understand the confusing mix of disappointment and relief that washed through him when Trevor pushed him away. He wanted Trevor to kiss him, even though he was nervous. He didn’t want to keep letting that get in the way of all the rest. He closed the space between them once more, taking one of Trevor’s hands and pulling it around his waist, and lacing the fingers of the other in his own. He stared hard into the hunter’s face and wished that he were better at saying what he was feeling out loud. It was hard to explain what was going through him right now.

The lightning suddenly struck again, this time so close that Adrian felt the electricity vibrating in the earth beneath him just before the jagged white arc sliced through the sky directly over them, the thunder an immediate and overwhelming crash that nearly drowned out everything else. A tree about twenty feet away exploded, the top crashing down and rolling over the steep rocks and out of sight with a cacophony of snapping branches. The stump that was left was blackened from the inside, steaming in the still pounding rain. That was their cue to make a hasty exit, neither of them relished being struck by the next bolt. Adrian and Trevor quickly disentangled and made a beeline for the mouth of the cave.

They ducked inside the darkened cavern which was filled with the deafening echo of the downpour.

“That was way too close,” Trevor panted, evidently shaken by the power and proximity of the blast.

“Yes it was, let’s go find Sypha,” Adrian answered, trying not to imagine what being hit by lightening would feel like.

They slogged in wet boots back into the tunnels. The torch had gone out and was too damp to relight without Sypha around to give it a blast of fire, so Adrian did his best to lead the way, trying to guide Trevor around the various obstacles in their path and follow his nose and ears back to the Hold. He couldn’t see much himself in the extreme darkness, but he was able to find his way easily enough. It was harder to help Trevor through, but eventually they emerged from the winding tunnels into the hall just past the well with only a few stubbed toes and knocked heads on the hunter’s part. It was a good distraction from what had just transpired and he was feeling more relaxed when they saw the light of the Hold come into view.

“Honey, we’re home,” Trevor called when they emerged, immediately peeling off his saturated tunic and wringing it out. “Sypha?”

“I’m here,” she called from the next floor up. She had an unmistakably eager look on her face. “Oh you’re soaked, I thought I heard thunder,” she said, leaning over the railing at the top of the stairs, still wearing that look.

“Oh there was thunder,” Trevor muttered, draping the soaked shirt over a chair. It began to dribble a puddle onto the stones beneath it.

“Did you find anything?” Adrian asked, assuming she had by her enthusiasm. Sypha was not an especially subtle person – when she was excited it showed.

“Oh yes,” she answered. “Come up here. I found a very useful spell that I’d never tried before.”

“Oh my God Syph you know I don’t get off on magic like you do,” Trevor drawled, yanking off his soaked boots and dumping a considerable amount of water out of one of them. He left them in a heap and trailed dark wet footprints up the stairs. Adrian was still dripping, not willing to take his clothes off in front of them. He sighed and tried to wring some of the water out of his hair and the front of his shirt. It had only a paltry effect. He did as Trevor had, removing his boots, nearly wincing at the way the water had already been sucked into the formerly supple leather.

As they gained the top of the stairs Sypha was veritably bouncing on the balls of her feet. She clapped her hands together and flitted over to Trevor, hooking her elbow in his and dragging him over to a circle she’d drawn on the floor. Adrian followed closely, his curiosity piqued. “You’re both going to love this,” she promised. “I actually can’t think of two people who would benefit more from this spell. Well, two spells, but they are performed together. Are you ready?”

Trevor was decidedly unimpressed. “Ready for what? Its a circle on the floor.”

Sypha released his arm and put her hands on her hips. “A little appreciation? While you two were goofing around I’ve been working on something useful.” Her tone was chiding but her expression was still happy. She just liked giving Trevor a hard time. Adrian could sympathize. He stepped up to the edge of the circle between the two of them.

“What does it do?”

“I’m getting to that. Just a second,” she held up a finger and ducked behind the next shelf over, coming back with what Adrian immediately recognized as the tattered remains of his coat. He’d only just gotten over losing it – well, maybe not ‘gotten over’ so much as ‘accepted’ – it was too soon. He fought the urge to clutch his chest in dramatized anguish. Sypha tossed the mess of stained fabric into the middle of the circle. She gestured for them to stand back a few paces then she put her palms together and began to chant, raising power which collected in the lines of the circle until they were glowing brightly and crackling with an eerie blue. Her chanting got louder and more intense until she opened her hands and directed her palms at the circle, squatting slightly in a posture that reminded Adrian of a fighter’s stance. Blue light crackled up in a solid wall around the circle, the energy bouncing all over the room and making his skin tingle. He had to look away as it became too bright.

When the light died back and finally dissipated he was already suspecting what would be there in the middle of the circle, but it seemed too good to be true. He looked in amazement at the petite Speaker as she strode to the crumpled heap and picked it up.

“I’ll accept indentured service in return for this,” she joked and laid Adrian’s repaired and renewed overcoat in his hands. He stared at the limp fabric in surprise.

“My… coat...” he whispered, holding up the garment and looking it over. It was flawless. Like the day he’d first received it. No blood and gore, no rips, no holes punched through the embroidered gold furnishings, each button present and accounted for, the tall collar perfectly intact and properly creased. He traced his fingers reverently over the repaired clothing and finally remembered Sypha standing beside him. He carefully set the coat over the nearby banister and scooped Sypha up in a huge hug, lifting her easily off her feet and squeezing her against his chest, heedless of the fact that he was soaking her with rainwater. “Thank you so much,” he said against her as she tried in vain to suck in a breath while patting his back. “You’re amazing,” Adrian told her and kissed her on both cheeks and the mouth. He set her down gingerly, letting her catch her breath.

Trevor was leaning against a nearby bookshelf, looking at the circle on the floor apathetically. Evidently he was not all that excited by this new development. “Man Syph, I thought you had found something that would get us into the castle.”

“Trevor at the rate we’ve been going we’d be showing up there naked. We needed this. Now go get changed, you’re dripping on everything.” she punctuated this by pushing a bundle of repaired clothes at him and pointing for him to get lost.

Trevor disappeared down the stairs and went to wash the mud off himself, leaving Adrian standing in a growing puddle in his bare feet. Sypha turned her pale blue eyes on him with a smile. “I did all of your other clothes too, and I can do your boots in a second. Here,” she offered him a similar bundle of dry, clean, restored clothing and he was most grateful for it. He thanked her again and found a large sheet to dry off with, eagerly removing what he was wearing and wrapping himself in the sheet. The idea of wearing a damned Belmont shirt into battle was abhorrent. Sypha had his boots not only dried, but looking better than ever by the time he was finished. He accepted them gratefully, ducking back into an alcove to change into his comfortable cream shirt with the low ‘v’ neckline and his favourite breeches.

Clothing is a strange thing. It has a way of making a person feel like they are more somehow. The sharp click of a heeled boot is empowering. A well-fitted outfit is flattering and builds confidence. The right combination of colours and textures can be part of a person’s identity. Adrian felt this way as he finally slipped his coat over his shoulders for the first time in weeks. It made him feel like himself. He was infinitely better off than only minutes before, because he felt right. He loved the tight, slim fit of his breeches, the press of his crossed sword belt at his hips, the feel of his boots, now properly dry and hugging his calves. The leather shifted easily with his movements. The simple shirt he chose to wear was cut a bit low for his new scars, but it was his and he had always liked the way it showed off a little of his chest; he liked feeling attractive. Sliding the luxuriously heavy jacket over everything else was incredible, the indulgent silk lining was soft on his skin, and the black with gold trim had been selected because he knew they complimented his eyes and hair. The shoulder fit well, but allowed him free movement with a sword, and the collar was high and occasionally brushed his jaw if he looked to the side. Finally he pulled on his gloves, the well-worn buckskin stretching around his fingers perfectly and moving easily when he curled his hand closed over the hilt of his weapon.

Privately, away from anyone’s view he donned each piece of his outfit and simply indulged in the pleasure of it. He felt like he was wearing a suit of armor that could not only protect him, but gave him the confidence to overcome the things with which he still struggled.

One at a time, it felt like he was picking up the pieces of himself and coming back together. He had the help of two people who were fast becoming the center of his world. He supposed that they already had. He wanted very badly to be able to return their affections and to let them in, but it was difficult when he felt so vulnerable before them. He felt like he’d been powerless for too long. The cage had stripped him of his dignity and his confidence. It made him weak and helpless, and although he was free, he still struggled with those feelings. He needed to find himself again, and to renew his belief in himself.

He had a great deal more certainty that he could do that as he strode from the alcove he’d changed in, chin high.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	15. Part Fifteen

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Fifteen**

Lunch consisted of a hot broth with bear meat and the few remaining vegetables they had left from the wagon stores. Provisions were dwindling, and they would need to leave within the next day or two to replenish their resources. They still had no idea how they would make it from where they were to wherever they were going, and it was looking more and more like the wagon would need to be left behind in the absence of horses. Adrian was not about to pull the damned thing himself. It was rather inconvenient that Trevor and Sypha couldn’t move as fast as he could. Running full speed, he could reach the closest village in hours, rather than days.

After the meal Trevor laid out all of his blades and began to service them, sharpening each of them with a whetstone and oiling them all with painstaking attention. He’d discovered a few daggers that he wanted to bring with him, adding to his already considerable collection of arms. It was actually comical how many blades the hunter had stashed on him at any given time. He’d do well never to fall into deep water, because he would sink like a stone before he could free himself of the weight. He was thoroughly absorbed with his weapons and barely noticed Sypha and Adrian slipping off to look at some of the older books that she’d found. Evidently there were several about the castle itself, all collected together in a dusty corner several floors up from the bottom of the Hold.

They sank down together with their backs against the end of one of the wooden bookcases and spent awhile in companionable silence simply poking through the moldering tomes. Sypha showed him some diagrams and drawings of the interior of the castle which had been recorded over two hundred years prior. They were surprisingly detailed, and made Adrian smile. The Belmonts thought the lighting was the work of spells and demon magic. They thought the copper pipes which transported water from boilers and reservoirs to various places in the castle were some kind of witchcraft. He snorted derisively when she showed him a drawing of a supposedly magical chamber pot that washed waste away after use.

“That’s nothing magical,” he said. “Its a flushing toilet. Its a simple design. Water sits in a reservoir above the bowl. The pipes all around the castle have pressure in them, so when the tank is emptied it will refill automatically. After using the toilet the water is released into the bowl, and it flows down the hole at the bottom, carrying the waste away. There is absolutely no magic involved. Its all science. Simple physics. Honestly, if Father would have tried a little harder, put a bit more stock in what Mother said about helping people and understanding them, he could have improved many lives.”

“Maybe you can do that, after we defeat him,” Sypha said, studying the images with a new perspective. “What _do_ you plan to do? After, I mean.”

“Do? I… never really considered… I suppose I will go back to sleep under Gresit until I’m needed again,” he couldn’t help the way his voice dropped when he said it, as he had to work around the lump in his chest. The idea of killing his last remaining parent was so sorrowful that he could only imagine shutting himself away after. It was as tragic as it was necessary. It was nearly unbearable.

She flipped to another page of the book, this one showing a sketch of the castle from the outside, looming towers and complicated, seemingly impossible architecture jutting high into the sky, each turret topped with a pointed roof, each wall boasting jagged battlements and dangerous looking protrusions. There were carvings of gargoyles and other creatures inlaid in many of the stones, or looming over bridges which connected some of the higher towers. It defied all logic in both design and scale. Adrian ran his hand over the image, noting some of the differences in layout, but feeling a tug of wistfulness at the memories stirred up by the drawing nonetheless. He missed his home terribly.

“You’re just going to disappear? Go to sleep? Why? Don’t you want to live? If you sleep, you’ll get left behind. Society will move on and when you wake you’ll be set apart from people. And… what about us? About Trevor and I? We don’t want you to just leave and go hide in a coffin. We could be dead by the time you wake up Adrian. We aren’t going to live forever.”

He knew all of this. It wasn’t lost on him. He glanced at Sypha, who was wearing a sad expression. “I’m already set apart from people. I don’t belong in the human world, Sypha.”

She shot him a glare. “That’s horse shit. That’s in your head, and it sounds so fatalistic. Of course you belong in the human world. You’re half human, but you could live in the supernatural world too. You can live however you want to.” Her glare softened and she caught his eyes, pushing the book aside. “I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. “I also think you have a responsibility. The castle won’t simply disappear if we kill Dracula, will it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so… but it could be moved somewhere where there are no people. Out of the way.”

“But then some evil vampire or demon will just come along and help themselves to it. Its a great resource of knowledge, if it has so many libraries and laboratories. Think of the science that’s locked inside. You could use it to help people.”  
  


“Me?”

“Of course you. You think there is anyone better? Who else even understands all of it like you do? You can do the things your father never did. And you’re good. You won’t use it to make war.”

Adrian shook his head at that, frowning. “Sypha the castle is not a normal building. Its magical. It can… affect those around it. My father is deeply bound to it, as if it were a living thing. I suspect that it has affected him over the centuries, but I cannot say how. If I take his place… I don’t know what it will do to me. It may change me. It should be destroyed.”

“Maybe, but not until you know if you can use the knowledge inside to help others.”

“Is that worth the risk? I admit I don’t fully understand the inner workings. Father is very secretive about those things, but I know with certainty that he is connected to it by blood. The engine room – the part which moves the castle – is alchemical. It uses a combination of scientific components and magic, and the magic needed to move it requires power and blood. As I said before, its not a normal building. I believe it would warp anyone who seeks to harness its power into madness unless they had his blood. Even with his blood it may still do so. I really don’t know. You are right about one thing, though. It cannot fall into the hands of others. There are many factions of vampires who have tried for centuries to take control over it. In the wrong hands it will sow only war and destruction.”

“It sounds like its already in the wrong hands, seeing as he’s trying to wipe out the human race,” her face pinched into a scowl.

“Mother’s death changed him, Sypha. He’s always been violent, but this is different. He was balanced before. Passionate about knowledge and science, about his family. He has never simply been a monster bent on killing, even when he has razed entire cities to ash, he had motivation, or saw some larger goal. I know that sounds odd to say, but its true. Her death… it has broken him.” Adrian closed the book, not wanting to see anymore pictures that dredged up such unpleasant memories.

“I’m sorry we have to do this,” Sypha said softly, her hand on his glove.

“So am I,” he agreed.

They fell back into silence after that, Adrian hardly looking at the book he had picked up. He was lost in thoughts and memories of times long past and the uncertainty of the future. The memories of his family were painful. His mother’s death had ruined everything. She had been the keystone that held their family up and made it stand strong. Without her things had simply crumbled to rubble. He tried to imagine living on past killing his father, what that might look like. If he took control of the castle, what would he do with it? What would it do to him? Where did Trevor and Sypha fit into that picture?

He was simply not ready for all of that. He chose to focus on the task at hand for the moment, lest he become so overwhelmed by worries of the future that he be too paralyzed to act in the present.

Another hour crept past and Sypha stayed beside him, reading quietly. She was very absorbed by her book, occasionally flipping between it and a smaller one she had selected, which she was using to translate unfamiliar words. Several floors below Adrian heard Trevor moving around, and the whoosh of a blade cutting the air. He was practicing with the daggers he’d acquired, moving through familiar steps, honing his proficiency with them. He heard the whip after awhile as well, recognizing the sounds of it spinning and twirling in his hands and snapping like lightening at whatever targets he was attacking.

Eventually Sypha set her book down and scooted closer to Adrian, putting a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” she said softly, to pull his attention from the book he was examining halfheartedly.

He glanced at her curiously.

“We should take a break, I’m not getting anywhere with this. Could I comb your hair?” she asked, her hand smoothing over his sleeve. “I feel like I’ve barely touched you since everything. Would that be ok?”

“Yes,” he said softly, thinking back to earlier, in the rain with Trevor. The hunter was always pushing him, and that was good, he knew he needed some of that. Sypha was not exactly a gentle person, but she had her own means of coaxing him which he welcomed. They were both refusing to let him withdraw into himself in their own ways, and he could not deny that it felt good that they cared.

She moved from sitting with her back against the shelves to kneeling so she would be tall enough to reach his head with the small comb she produced from the folds of her robe. Adrian shifted his back towards her to give her better access.

She began to card her fingers through the ends of his hair, which was mostly dry by now. It was a wonderful sensation that reminded him of his mother. She had often indulged his love for having his hair combed and touched when he was a small boy, and it always brought him peace. He sighed, relaxing beneath Sypha’s fingertips. She pulled the comb through the pale blonde strands, beginning at the bottom and working her way upwards.

“Its getting so long,” she commented, eventually discarding the comb and instead simply working her hands into his scalp. He thought of the way she’d touched him when he was hurt and helpless in the cage. She hadn’t shied away, even when he was wasting and losing his hair. He shuddered at the memory, wishing she and Trevor had never seen that. He wondered if she was thinking of it now.

She dug her fingertips against his scalp, pressing the skin in small circles and tugging gently at his hairline, which he found very relaxing. He let his eyes flutter closed, allowing her to continue to alternate between combing her fingers through his hair and massaging his head.

“That feels really good,” he said when she moved to work the back of his neck, pressing on the muscles and sliding her fingers around to the place where his jaw met his skull. He hadn’t realized that area was so tense – it fought her ministrations – but she was bringing the muscles around. He leaned into her more heavily, her fingers subduing him easily. Had he known she was so skilled at this he would have pressed harder for her to play with his hair over the last few months. He had to smile a bit at how easily Sypha could manipulate him with just her hands. He could see her bribing him to do a great deal with the promise of being touched this way. Some greedy part of him wondered if he could use his wolf form to extort head scratches from her. She’d probably cave in an instant.

“I’m glad I can do this,” Sypha said close to his ear as she worked. “I feel like I can’t do anything to help sometimes.”

Adrian’s brows knitted at her second comment, but she was working the base of his skull now and it was hard not to relax at her expert touch. He felt like he was melting into a puddle of complacent goop. “Sypha you do more than any of us,” he pointed out as if that were self-explanatory.

“I don’t mean magic, or research. I mean for you.”

His eyes flicked open and he turned to face her, taking her hands in his. She glanced away, but was drawn back into his gaze as if she couldn’t help herself. “How can you say that? After everything?”

Her bottom lip quivered slightly as though she were overcome with strong emotion. “I wish I could help you feel normal again,” she said slowly. “I watched what you went through and I couldn’t do anything. Then we had to leave you for so long, and when we came back you had changed. You closed yourself off. I just… It was my fault we didn’t come back first. It was my fault that you were alone. Everything that’s happened has hurt you so much and I don’t seem to be able to do anything to help. I wish there was a spell I could do to fix it.” her hands were limp in his, her eyes large and sad.

“None of this is your fault Sypha. Magic can’t fix everything,” Adrian said gently leaning back against the shelf and pulling Sypha into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. She was so petite, she fit easily there, her head tucking under his chin. It was actually very nice to be able to comfort someone else. He was tired of needing so much and giving nothing back. He understood how she was feeling.

The hotness of her cheek was pressing into his chest; she was touching his bare skin, maybe even the scars. He just closed his eyes and tried not to let the small twinge of anxiety grow large enough to spoil it as he held her quietly, running his fingers along her back and into her hair. The unsettling memories which lurked just below the surface were like a shadow that followed him everywhere, waiting to spring out at the most inconvenient moments. He wanted to snip that shadow loose and let it float away.

They were quiet. Adrian was grateful to discover that it was easier to be close than before. The massaging had relaxed him considerably, had rendered his anxiety less powerful. He was able to forget about it by focusing instead on the feeling of her in his lap, the warm puff of her breath on his chest. Sypha slowly began to explore him with her hand, her finger pads tracing along the bumps of embroidered gold threads at the edge of his coat.

“Can you perform magic?” she asked suddenly, and he could tell she’d been mulling the question over for awhile before she posed it aloud. “All of the books here say that vampires can.”

“Yes,” he answered, “I can.”

“Why don’t you then? I’ve never seen you use a spell.”

There was a long pause while he thought about her question and the deeper implications of his response. “I... haven’t in some time. Father and I used to… he taught me several spells,” he couldn’t hide the dismay in his tone. There was another stretch of silence before Sypha spoke again.

“The books I’ve been reading said other things,” she said slowly, her fingers now on his chest, uncomfortably close to the edge of the scar that peeked out of the neckline of his shirt.

He fought the threat of the memories that surged at the contact.

“These should have healed,” she laid her palm over the ugly and jagged mark and Adrian’s hand was grabbing hers in an instant, reflexively closing over the back of her palm, tugging it off of him with black-clad fingertips.

“Sypha,” his voice held an edge of warning that he didn’t mean to sound quite so threatening. She stilled in his grasp but didn’t withdraw.

“You’re crushing my hand,” she said calmly and he dropped it as if burned.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

She flexed her fingers gingerly. “Will you tell me about your magic?”

“I… don’t use it anymore,” he said barely above a whisper. He didn’t like this line of conversation. She was pushing him. Different than Trevor had, but still pushing. How had he ended up with the two most stubborn people in the world?

Sypha shifted against him. “You mean you _can’t_ use it.”

He stilled, withdrawing from her and pinning her with a suspicious expression. “What have you been reading?”

“The Belmonts studied vampires, they did experiments on them,” she said seriously.

He curled his lip in disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he imagined chained vampires being subjected to a variety of tortures and tests and it made his skin crawl. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to destroy the Hold and everything in it.

“They tested vampires’ abilities, their strength, their magic, their resistance to things like poisons and holy water. They also experimented with their bodies’ responses to different types of blood, and to starvation. There was a lot of data, and it was pretty consistent.”

Adrian’s expression darkened. “You shouldn’t read anymore of those,” he said icily. Sypha twisted around in his lap so she could look up at him.

“I’ve already read them, Adrian. I never realized how important it was to your physiology to have human blood, specifically.”

He felt like she was backing him into a corner. He scowled. “I don’t need it.”

She met his stare, not put off by the dangerous tone of his voice. “How are we going to beat Dracula if you aren’t at your strongest?” her eyes were glittering and serious. She held his stare in hers, searching him, studying him. He felt like she was seeing through all of his carefully erected barriers. He squirmed. He wanted to wiggle out of their entangled position and run. He did not want to talk about this. His decisions were personal. His choices were his own. He had never needed any of the things that he gave up to live the way he preferred, and he didn’t see why he would suddenly need them now. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and she was already speaking again.

“You know we care about you, don’t you? I care about you,” she closed the distance between them, laying a kiss on his lips, slowly, intimately. He was stone against her, hard and motionless. She threaded her fingers through his hair and along his cheek, trying to soften him. “When you talked about growing up in the castle you said that you made a decision on your own not to hurt people. You even said it was not accepted by your father. I respect your decision, but if it would help you to move past what happened, or if it would give you extra strength in our fight, maybe you should reconsider.”

He broke from her searching eyes, focusing on a point on the floor a few feet away. She couldn’t possibly understand. This was private; it wasn’t something he should talk with her about. He didn’t see humans discussing the particulars of a roast with the cow. Perhaps a poor comparison, because he really did not look at people like livestock. That was a popular point of view among vampires, but he did not share it. _He_ was half human. It was conflicting to lump humans into a category that way. It was wrong, and it was beyond awkward to pursue this topic with her.

Her hand on his cheek gently coaxed him to look at her again. “You don’t have to kill anybody, right?”

He stared at her quietly, then shook his head slightly. “No,” he whispered, thinking about what she was saying. His fangs itched. There was a pressure in his jaw, in his sinuses. This theme was as precarious as it was tempting. He had excellent control, but that didn’t mean he did not _want_ blood, or think about it. He was _half vampire_ , of course he wanted it. He had trained himself to go without for so long it felt normal to always be a little… empty. Unsatisfied. He didn’t go around day in and day out constantly lusting for human blood. The only time he’d felt that was in the cage, and that had abated now, leaving only the memory behind. Dark thoughts of ripping out hearts and laying people open with his claws were shoved as far back inside him as they could go. More typical cravings were usually triggered by someone actively bleeding around him, but he was accustomed to simply ignoring it. It hardly cost any effort to do so unless he was particularly famished. He was comfortable with the slight and very manageable feeling of hunger that was never quite sated. He didn’t think about it. He felt fine.

He put his gloved hand over Sypha’s and gently removed it from his cheek. “Sypha I don’t want to discuss this. I made my choices a long time ago, and I am satisfied with them.”

She sighed in resignation, staring at their hands clasped together in her lap. She began to peel his glove off. When his hand was bare she put their palms together. His long fingers dwarfed hers. Her skin was delightfully warm. His eyes effortlessly mapped the interconnected web of vessels that ran close under her flesh; he could pick out the flutter of her pulse at several points in her hand alone. If he allowed it, he could let the sound of her heart pumping drown out all else. It was too easy to get lost in it. It was hypnotic.

But he didn’t let himself fall to that temptation. Human life was so uncertain and fragile, almost any disruption could snuff it out. There were so many things that could steal her away it was terrifying. Holding her and thinking about these things made him feel like he was cradling a tiny, fragile bird rather than a powerful mage. To think of harming her was abhorrent. To think of her actually dying under his fangs made him sick. He knew logically that even if he bit her she would be fine. Killing was not strictly necessary, and did not happen by accident. It was an irrational fear, but it surged through him as he allowed himself to imagine actually drinking human blood for the first time in many years. It had been so long that he was somewhat disconnected with the experience, not that it dulled the memory at all. The last time he’d really considered it had been when Trevor had attacked him in Gresit. He’d been quite ready to tear his throat out, and he would not have let the blood go to waste, but it had never been from a place of hunger. That was a matter of self preservation. Is that what this was, too?

Was it time to reconsider, as Sypha said?

Sypha tented their fingers together and traced over the bumps of his knuckles, leaning against him again, relaxing in his lap with her head against his chest once more. “A lot of things have happened since you made your choices Adrian. You didn’t have to fight Dracula. You didn’t know Trev and I yet. You were what, ten years old? I’m not saying you need to do anything right this second, but think about it. All those books basically said the same thing: vampires need human blood to function normally. To maintain their strength and abilities. It would certainly be helpful if you could do some spells when we get to the castle. If it gave you extra speed or endurance that would be really useful. It could be the difference between winning or not.”

He played with her fingers, considering. He didn’t want to break the promise he’d made to himself. He enjoyed hunting animals, it satisfied the wolf and many of his instincts, but he could not deny the truth in her words. It had been a very long time, but he never forgot the difference that human blood made. Animal blood was dull by comparison. It left him slightly... _less_. By refusing to drink he _was_ leaving them all at a greater disadvantage against his father. Damn her logic. But there was another side to it as well. He hated feeling like a parasite. There was a swell of pride when he refused human blood, that sensation that he was better than lowly common vampires flared each time he thought about it. It was deeply ingrained in his identity, and he felt that he would be failing himself to break his fast.

She continued speaking.

“If it would heal your scars, I feel like that would help you a lot.”

“That’s the real reason you’re pushing this, isn’t it,” he accused. “You think it will magically fix things. Erase what happened. You know its not that simple.”

She shook her head. “You’re twisting my words. I want to share something of mine with you. And I do think it will ease some of the feelings you’re having, but I know it won’t erase the memories.”

He glowered at her silently. The lantern sputtered and sent shadows dancing along the rows and rows of books, the ceiling stretching dark and invisible high above them.

“It would be something I could do to for you, Adrian,” her expression softened, her eyes gentle. “Something just between us.” She emphasized her last statement by pulling his palm over her heart, pressing it there and covering it with hers. He felt the steady drumming beneath his fingers. His scowl eased slightly.

“When I offered before… I wasn’t really sure. I didn’t understand it. Not as well as I do now. I was scared of what was happening to you and I felt like it was the only thing to do. Its different now. After everything I’ve read, and after watching what you went through, I’m sure. I trust you Adrian. I know you won’t hurt me. I want you to drink my blood. I want it to be my blood that heals you.”

He could feel her unwavering and steady heartbeat under his palm as she nuzzled against his chest and he had to swallow back his visceral reaction to her sincere declaration. Not one of hunger, but of awe. He was amazed at her. A bit stunned. She was serious. She _did_ understand. She was offering him her blood freely. No compulsion or coercion, no life or death situation rendering it a necessity. She wanted him to take a part of her inside himself to heal and nourish him, and that was undeniably rare and beautiful.

Faced with this unexpected development he was nearly moved to tears. He pushed his nose into her hair and breathed her in and kissed her, pulling her more tightly against himself. He leaned into her, tucking his chin so he could get his face close to hers. This was a private conversation just for them to share. It felt like they were alone in the Hold, far away from anyone or anything else. When he spoke voice was just above a whisper. “Sypha nobody’s ever… I’ve never taken from someone willing. The humans in father’s castle were either enthralled, compelled or terrified. I have not bitten anyone since I was little more than a child.”

Sypha smiled against him and tipped her head up to kiss him, opening her mouth to him and tasting him gently, preserving the air of seclusion that had fallen over them curled up together surrounded by books and relics. Her arm slipped around his neck and she pulled him in, her tongue finding his as their lips worked against one another. When she pulled away to catch her breath there was a lovely flush spread over her cheeks.

She ran a fingertip along his cheek, over his lips. “I’m offering willingly. I won’t be enthralled or scared. And you aren’t a child anymore.”

He opened his mouth slightly at the press of her finger and she pushed it in, curiously tracing one of his fangs. His breath hitched. She smiled. Her finger ran along the elongated tooth again, testing him, watching his reaction. She dragged it over the point and his mouth watered, his eyes flashing red. His fangs throbbed at the sensation of pressure on them, the smell of blood close. The urge to snap his mouth shut on her finger was powerful. He closed his eyes, trying to turn his head to the side but her hand came to his cheek before he could and she shook her head.

“Don’t,” she said in that same low voice, like they were the only two people in the world. “I want to see.”

He knew he was blushing; he could feel the heat burning his ears. He was exposed, vulnerable under her studious gaze, but he supposed it was reasonable to let her indulge her curiosity in light of what they were discussing. That being said, there was a limit to self-control, and he had never tested it this way. He was fine now, but the line between intimacy and appetite could prove to be more difficult to maintain than he expected if he actually bit her. He didn’t know. This was unfamiliar territory. When people were completely off-limits it was easy to simply deny himself. Would it be harder if he tasted her?

“I want to understand what this is like for you,” she said, her thumb brushing along his cheek. He leaned into her palm, the heat lulling him along with her touch. “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”

He tried to think of what he could say that might satisfy her questions without revealing more than he wanted to. “You smell really good,” he admitted, blushing all the way to his chest. “You’re so warm. It feels nice.”

She nodded, wriggling a little closer and leaning forward to kiss him again. This time it was slow, sensual. She splayed her palm over his chest and pressed their lips together, kissing him deeply, making his body tingle with pleasure as she subjected him to a thorough investigation with her mouth. He panted against her when their lips parted and leaned closer, inhaling her scent. It was delectable. It was so easy to get carried away when the possibility of tasting her was real. This was going to make things much more complicated. He was already imagining biting her and it was mixed up with memories of kissing her and Trevor, and of the sexual things they’d explored together. Already his body was responding to the kisses, and to her weight in his lap. It felt so natural to lean in and drag his fangs over her throat that he was doing it before he thought about it. Evidently his self-proclaimed ‘perfect’ control was going to be put through its paces.

She was cradled against him, her head tipped to the side as she allowed him to sniff at her neck and open his mouth over it, to tongue the pulse point there and test her flesh with his fangs. He trembled, closing his mouth and simply burying his face against her, soaking up her heat and feeling the throb of her pulse over his closed eyelids. Her hands were in his hair, affectionately stroking his head. Eventually he pulled away to look at her, certain his eyes were both reddened and luminous. He was worried he’d see apprehension in her but she was relaxed, looking on him fondly and seemingly unfazed by his inhuman countenance. He couldn’t help the guilt that washed through him; she probably didn’t realize that he hadn’t meant to come so close yet.

“We should stop,” he said, his voice nearly a growl. This wasn’t right. Maybe he wasn’t as firmly in control of himself as he’d thought. He didn’t want to lull her into a false sense of security – as if that wasn’t the most natural thing for a vampire to do when there was a beautiful woman offering him her neck.

Sypha seemed rather adept at reading him and she afforded him some space, facing him again so her neck wasn’t bared so blatantly. “We can stop,” she assured him, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger and kissing his cheek.

He cradled her, tucking his face into her hair.

“What about Trevor?” he asked after several minutes. He’d managed to calm himself down and he knew he needed a chance to reflect on things before they went any further. It was frighteningly easy to get carried away when his instincts flared and hunger was mixed with pleasure. It had taken him by surprise.

She took a moment to answer, as if she was considering, still playing with his hair. “He doesn’t need to know, if you think it would be easier that way.”

That didn’t sit right. Also… he knew Trevor wouldn’t let anything happen that shouldn’t. “I don’t want to lie to him.”

Sypha smirked. “Maybe we should. Something tells me he won’t be very willing to let a vampire bite me, even if its you.”

Adrian shifted so he could look at her. “I don’t expect he would. I imagine his reaction to merely discussing it will be blatant opposition. He will refuse to allow it.”

She scoffed at that. “ _Trevor_ doesn’t tell me what to do.”

Adrian shook his head. “Its not about having permission from him, Sypha. We all care for one another. It would drive a rift between he and I if he thought I forced this on you or if we did it in secret. It would damage the trust we all share.”

Sypha looked at him for a long moment while she thought about that. “Well good luck talking him into it. Dracula will have razed humanity to the dirt by the time he agrees.”

Adrian smiled at that. “You’re probably right, but I won’t deny him the opportunity to assure himself of your safety.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “There has to be a certain expectation that if you get involved in a relationship with a vampire the topic of drinking blood is going to come up at some point. Do you honestly think he hasn’t considered the possibility?”

“I’ve been fairly adamant that I only drink from animals.”

“Well, we’ll talk to him about it later. I would suggest we do it when he’s relaxed and maybe a little drunk. He’s far more agreeable that way,” she grinned at her own statement.

“I have another bottle of wine from the cellar. We can open it tonight.”

“That’s a good plan” She gave him a confident nod, straightening in his lap. “Adrian?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really glad you’re ok,” she said suddenly, pulling him into a tight hug.

He blinked in surprise and let her squeeze him, folding his arms around her in return. When he spoke it was right into her ear in between kisses. “I’ll always be ok Sypha, I’m very hard to kill.”

“That’s good,” she said into his chest, “I get into a lot of trouble. Trev too. You can keep us safe.”

He wanted to promise that he would, but he seriously considered whether he could keep such a promise given their lifestyle and general tendency to attract every murderous thing in Wallachia. “I will do everything in my power to protect you both as long as you live,” he said finally, after considering the wording for a moment.

They held each other for a few more minutes until Adrian saw something glinting in the flicker of the lantern that he hadn’t noticed before. He squinted, seeing the edge of something shiny draped in a large black sheet. That wasn’t unusual – there was plenty of old junk draped in sheets around the Hold – but this seemed very reflective. He could see the edge of it carved with symbols he was sure he recognized.

He stood up quickly, setting Sypha on her feet beside him before she could even react.

“What is it?” she asked him.

“I think its a mirror,” he said distractedly, pulling his glove back on.

He strode to the edge of the balcony they were on and hopped the railing, flying across the middle of the Hold to the other side where he had glimpsed the shining bit of reflected light. They had been at just the right angle for it to catch the lantern where they were sitting. He heard Sypha mutter something about his being able to fly as she took the long way around. He ducked through a small passage between two tall shelves which he hadn’t noticed before. The space opened up into a new room with others branching off of it, all unexplored as of yet. Sypha came through the narrow space behind him a few moments later, blinking in the darkness. She lit the nearby lanterns and the space was illuminated, revealing more shelves of books, some chests and artifacts, and a tall rectangular shape that was obscured by the cloth draped over it.

“Trevor should see this too,” she said, slipping back into the main body of the Hold and calling to him.

Adrian grabbed the cloth and pulled it aside, resulting in a large cloud of dust billowing out and tickling his nose. He stepped back to take in the sizable artifact, which was around eight feet tall.

Trevor came into the room as the dust settled, panting from running up several flights of stairs. He was sweaty from his training, his newly cleaned shirt already sticking to him. “What did you find?”

“A mirror,” Sypha answered him as Adrian smoothed his fingers over the surface. It had cracks in several places, the glass lined with a spiderweb pattern from where it had been impacted over the years. None of it was missing, however. The heavy, ornate metal frame was inscribed with rune-like symbols. He could see where scuffs along the edges had damaged them. It would need some repairs, but it was serviceable.

“I’m going to assume that is more than just a regular mirror,” Trevor began, looking between the mirror itself and Adrian, who was examining the runes more closely.

“Its a distance mirror,” he answered.

“Of _course_ , a distance mirror. Well. That explains everything,” Trevor said with blatant sarcasm. He seemed to get a little defensive over the things in the Hold that were beyond his non-existent knowledge of magic and the like. Adrian could sort of understand his feelings of inadequacy in that regard, though it was his opinion that he dealt with them childishly.

“Its not a very powerful one. Some of them can transport matter, but this one can only view things remotely. We can use it to find the castle.”

“Fuck of a lot of good it will do us if we’re stuck way out here,” Trevor grumbled. He had a point.

“At least it will give us a better idea of what has been going on. We can check on major cities and the nearby towns, and maybe find where the horde is most active,” Sypha offered, not put off by Trevor’s attitude.

“Well, I suppose that’s better than sitting here in the dark with no idea what’s going on.” He took a few steps closer, sidling up to Adrian to examine the artifact and run his hands along the carved symbols. When he was satisfied he flung an arm over Adrian’s shoulders. “Fire it up.”

“I can’t. Its damaged. I need some time to fix it.”

“But you can? Fix it, I mean. Its not useless?”

“Yes.” Adrian slipped out from Trevor’s hold and stepped back to take stock of each of the symbols and identify where he would need to make corrections. “I can fix it.”

“Good,” Trevor answered, sounding encouraged. “I was really starting to think we’d come out here for nothing.”

“I’ll work on it shortly, but first I think we need something for dinner.” He put a hand to his stomach, which growled loudly as if on cue. All the talk of blood with Sypha had stirred up his appetite. He was working rather diligently to avoid thinking about what had transpired. There was definitely a part of him that could obsess over the idea of blood and he didn’t want to give it too much leeway. That was pretty much impossible now, all things considered.

“More bear meat, I’m guessing, since that’s pretty much all we have left,” Trevor grumbled, sounding _decidedly_ ungrateful for having anything at all. Adrian raised a brow at him.

“What? Its true!”

Sypha looked back and forth between the two men, as if judging where to cast her lot. “Why don’t I open the door to the Hold and we’ll see if we can forage for something to make dinner a little better? Adrian you said there were some things growing in the old Estate garden?”

He nodded “Yes. There were still things left when I gathered what I needed for last night.”

She clapped her hands together. “Perfect. Lets go.”

They all marched single file through the narrow entrance to the room and up the stairs. When they got to the very top they were greeted with the gruesome remains of several small animals and loads of blood that had dried to a black crust which was now cracking and shrinking over the stones. Much of it was Adrian’s blood; he could smell it easily along with his other bodily fluids and the harsh tang of the poison which still lingered over the area. Considering his particularly refined sense of smell and how liberally the mess was spread over everything, that was not surprising. He saw tiny fragments of white bone that didn’t belong to any of the animals, and realized that they were his own, maybe from his shattered tibia. Several long strands of his hair were gummed into clumps from when they had fallen out.

He’d known what they would find here, but the wave of revulsion and graphic memories that struck him was powerful. For a moment he was back in the cage, his blood all around him and the stabbing fire of stakes impaling him so convincing he could not discern it from reality. When he inhaled next he nearly choked on the phantom sensation of blood in his lungs. He missed a step, almost plowing into Trevor a few paces ahead of him. He recovered his footing and phased immediately past the gory scene in a flash of red, passing into the round hall where the bear’s blood still painted everything and flying up the center of the massive room, ignoring the myriad circular stairs entirely. He came to rest at the very top of the final staircase to await Sypha and Trevor at the sealed door, his pulse a pounding din in his ears.

“What a fucking horror show it is in here,” he heard Trevor say as he and Sypha passed through the carnage at much more sedate pace.

He tried to swallow back the bile that rose at the vivid sensations which overtook him. One glove splayed to brace him against the wall as he doubled over and dry heaved, gagging and retching though nothing actually came out. His vision blackened fuzzily at the corners and his ears rung. He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the sides of his head, jaw clenched so hard his teeth were grinding on each other audibly. He curled in on himself and sank against the wall, latching onto the cold of the stone to ground himself, trying to regain his composure before his companions made it up the long series of circular staircases. It took him several uncomfortable moments – wherein he struggled to remember where he was – before he was able to force his eyes to open and focus on the pattern of interlocking bricks of the wall. He rested his forehead on the cold hardness and tried to take a deep breath, like Trevor had encouraged him to do when the panic had taken him the night before. Eventually he was able to relax marginally and coax his body out of the curled up position he’d taken. His hands were trembling. He took off his gloves and pressed them against the stones, the cold a great comfort to him in that moment.

Slowly the paralyzing memories faded and he was able to stand up and put his gloves back on, leaning on the wall still, wiping tears away as he tried to look like he hadn’t just about lost his mind at the sight of his own blood and tissues decorating the floor of the Belmont Hold like the scene of some kind of macabre exorcism.

Horror show indeed.

He was suddenly not very hungry.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked especially hard on this chapter. I really hope it turned out! A lot of things explored here, from Adrian's plans for after Dracula is defeated (which he is clearly not ready to deal with) to Sypha rather blatantly cornering him into discussing his dietary choices. And some fluff for them, because I had a sweet tooth and I feel like it fit really well in the moment. I know we ended it on a bit of a rough note, sorry! Also there might be a trace of the PLOT actually rearing its head... what will they see in the mirror? 
> 
> I've been so amazed at all the lovely comments recently, thanks to everyone who has followed this far! We are over 100K words! Woot! Your reviews are truly amazing and I cannot express how much they mean to me. THANK YOU! More soon!


	16. Part Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this chapter to LeseLille for being so supportive throughout this story. Thank you!

**Part Sixteen**

Adrian pulled himself into a passable facsimile of normalcy by the time Trevor and Sypha made it up the stairs and opened the door. They both eyed him with concern and Trevor put a hand on his arm and caught his eyes for a long moment, but said nothing of the drying tear tracks on his cheeks or the way he was gripping the wall like it was a lifeline. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to bring attention to his tenuous grasp on himself. The flashback had been disturbingly intense; it was deeply unsettling to know he could be overwhelmed by panic to the point of barely recognizing where he was. He sincerely hoped it didn’t happen again.

Sypha opened the door and they were greeted with the blissfully fresh nighttime air. The storm had passed, leaving the world wet and humid, but clear. It was unseasonably warm and the moon was even brighter tonight than it had been yesterday. It’s reflection shimmered in the puddles all around them. Insects and frogs were especially raucous and as before, the open night was the best possible thing to soothe Adrian’s nerves.

Within a few minutes of being outside he was able to clear his mind of the incident, thinking instead about finding something to fill out their paltry food stores. He looked around, trying to get his bearings from this less familiar starting point.

Trevor led them to the ruined gardens where they began to comb over the weeds in search of something edible. The hunter proved surprisingly adept at picking out what was useful.

“I didn’t realize you were so skilled at foraging,” Adrian commented when Trevor honed in on some scraggly leaves which tuned out to have a rather delicious looking carrot attached to them. It was the third decent find in as many minutes. It was easy for Adrian; he knew all about plants. He could see in the dark as well as smell what he was looking for from far away. For Trevor to find the same things by moonlight was impressive.

The hunter shrugged. “I’ve been a drifter for twelve years… I will literally eat anything that can’t outrun me. Its good to know which shit will poison me. I gave up on mushrooms though. They all look the same.” He tossed the muddy carrot in with the other bits that they’d already collected and kept looking. The hunter was hanging near him, glancing at him here and there when he thought Adrian wouldn’t notice.

Sypha was also watching him surreptitiously, but for a different reason. He knew she was still thinking about their discussion. So was he. Slight slip of control aside, he was enormously curious about what it would be like to taste her, and he was working diligently to keep himself from getting carried away thinking about it. He was also feeling especially ravenous now that the panic had settled. After the possibility of drinking blood – _real_ blood – had presented itself, he found the idea of anything else decidedly less appetizing. He had fed heavily only the day before, yet he was noticing signs of thirst – like his throat feeling oddly dry, and a twinge in his fangs that went right into his head – which normally would not be present unless he’d gone for quite some time without any blood at all. He was beginning to wonder if denying himself for so long may have worked against him in the long run; he was completely at a loss for what to expect from the experience. Something told him it would be very different with a willing partner than it had been to bite some starved slave who was so thoroughly compelled that they barely noticed what was happening. Sypha’s words kept playing in his head, over and over: _I want you to drink my blood._ _I’m offering willingly._ He still didn’t quite believe it.

He found himself staring at her, preoccupied by the cadence of her heart when Trevor loudly cleared his throat.

“Earth to Vampire Jesus, anyone home?”

He started, looking at the hunter in surprise. Trevor was standing right beside him. He hadn’t noticed. “Uhm, what?”

Trevor gave him a dubious look. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

He glanced back at Sypha and Trevor elbowed him in the ribs. “Adrian. What the fuck.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled and finally tore his attention away from her. Blue eyes were squinting at him suspiciously. “Sorry. What did you say?” he asked stupidly.

“First of all, you’re standing in a puddle,” Trevor pointed at his feet and he realized he did indeed have one foot sunk several inches into a puddle, the water already soaking into the leather of his boot. He stared at it for a moment. “Oh,” he said, and hopped out of it, shaking his foot as if that would do anything. Trevor watched him closely.

“Second, I was asking if you wanted to hunt for some dinner so we could save the preserved meat for travel, you know, since we should probably be getting the fuck out of here. Once we know where we’re going.”

Adrian nodded, looking at his boot as he put weight on it and a stream of water leaked out of the seams and formed a puddle around his foot. “That’s… reasonable,” he said slowly, watching the way the water quivered when he lifted his foot. Trevor put a hand on his elbow, stepping close and eyeing him with concern.

“Are you good? I know that freaked you out when we walked past the uhh… the mess. We could clean it up. If you think that will help.” Trevor was wearing a genuinely worried expression and Adrian felt incredibly guilty that he was having weird blood-drinking fantasies while the hunter thought he was suffering after-effects of trauma and panic.

“We should probably clean it up, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m ok.” he said, eyeing Trevor’s hand on his elbow. The hunter’s skin looked several shades darker in the moonlight, while his own nearly shone with a grey-white luminescence. He could see the pulse in Trevor’s palm, and his wrist, and one in his elbow. He swallowed and looked at the ground. Fuck. He hadn’t felt like this for ages – not since he was a small child – and even then he’d curbed it easily under his father’s careful guidance.

“Why are you so distracted?” he asked, and Adrian knew it was no great feat that he’d noticed.

“No um… no reason,” he said, glancing anywhere but Trevor’s face.

“Wow, you are a _terrible_ liar,” the hunter pointed out in an unimpressed tone. “Don’t ever gamble. Or cheat at anything.”

This was not news to Adrian. He _was_ a terrible liar. In fact deception in general was a weak point, but now was not the time to discuss what he and Sypha had talked about. If Trevor asked him outright he knew he would tell him with little prodding. Sypha was absolutely correct when she suggested that they set the mood first and broach the subject with some finesse. They were supposed to have something to eat – because everyone was more agreeable on a full stomach – and get Trevor at least a bit drunk, which would go a long way to tempering his reaction. _Then_ Adrian would somehow find the courage to tell him what they had discussed and try to bring him around. His damnable conscience wouldn’t let him simply do as Sypha had suggested – no – _recommended_ and not tell him at all. It was the most logical option, certainly the easiest, but Adrian wouldn’t tolerate lying. Especially to people he cared for.

He could already bitten Sypha while they were curled up together in the Hold. He’d certainly been close enough, and she’d been more than willing. He hadn’t because it felt wrong to break his fast so unceremoniously. It cheapened it. He’d spent half his damned life refusing human blood and he had never thought he’d be so much as considering changing his mind. Sypha had turned that on its ear in a few simple phrases and now all he could think about was the sound of her heart drumming away as she poked around in the dirt across the garden.

His teeth itched. Killing something seemed like an excellent idea right now. Trevor was looking at him with an unsettling measure of disappointment and incredulity and Adrian had that sense of being backed into a corner, brought on mostly by his own sense of guilt. “I’ll just… go hunt,” he said, twisting his elbow out of Trevor’s grasp and walking towards the edge of the trees. His boot squelched on every alternate step. Trevor followed him, grabbing his hand before he got more than a few paces.

“Hey, wait. Last night you said you were going to talk about shit more. This would be a good place to start. What’s wrong?”

The hunter squeezed his fingers in a way that he was certain was intended to be reassuring. He was frustrated. He was disappointed in himself and he needed to clear his head and get away from the mundane things which were suddenly tempting when they shouldn’t be. Faced with no better options, Adrian turned into a wolf.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” Trevor complained loudly, pinning Adrian with a glare. “If you were trying to avoid talking about something there are easier ways,” he said curtly, crossing his arms.

He stretched lazily and yawned at Trevor, displaying a muzzle full of sharp teeth, his canines slightly larger than a typical wolf’s. The hunter scowled at him, incensed. He heard Sypha make an exclamation of surprise and glanced to where she had been digging through the weeds. She dropped the sad looking potato she’d found and ran over. When she got a little closer her eyes widened and she slowed, perhaps unsure of him once she was near enough to get a sense of just how big his wolf form was. He knew he was imposing. He was nearly up to Sypha’s chest, his paws easily larger than her hands and tipped in sharp black claws. The look on her face was priceless.

While he wanted to reassure her that he wouldn’t harm her, he also enjoyed the wary way she looked at him. It felt good to be just a little scary. The soul of the wolf had its own wildness, and it wanted to be respected. He was used to it. He could see Sypha’s fingers twitching, like she was considering calling some element into her hand just in case.

She looked at Trevor. “Is that-

He snorted. “Oh its him alright. Fucking coward,” he sounded insulted and genuinely angry.

Adrian turned back to the hunter and growled, a deep and threatening rumble in his chest that definitely made Sypha take a step back and made Trevor glare daggers at him, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Don’t you fucking growl at me Adrian. We aren’t done talking. You can’t stay like that forever.”

He snorted back at the hunter, showing his teeth. He didn’t appreciate being called a coward. Trevor puffed his chest and stood his ground, but Adrian could hear his heart picking up speed. He also caught the hurt look that flashed over his features, which the hunter was trying to hide behind his bravado.

Perhaps he wasn’t being entirely reasonable. Trevor was only trying to help and Adrian had responded to him by rendering discussion impossible then growling at him like the animal who’s shape he was borrowing. In truth he was feeling rather like an animal at the moment and he had no idea how to explain that. He exhaled through his nose and begrudgingly relaxed his expression, looking at Trevor apologetically.

Trevor stared back, working to maintain his glare but failing miserably. He sighed. “How am I supposed to be mad at you when you’re… this.” he gestured to Adrian, who let his tail swish lazily back and forth and whined in response.

“You’re still going to have to talk to me,” Trevor said in a low voice, his hand relaxing at his side.

Sypha was nearly vibrating by now, unable to keep herself from inching nearer. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were huge, her curiosity palpable.

“Adrian?” she asked him, still not entirely convinced that he wasn’t going to eat her. He padded over to her, letting her study him up close. “Its really you?” she asked again and he dipped his head in affirmation. Her hand cautiously closed the distance between them, her fingers tentatively exploring the fur on his shoulder. He twisted around and nosed her hand, pushing into her palm.

Something moved in the trees several hundred yards away, something large enough to make a twig snap and a leaf crackle as it was stepped on. His ears perked instantly and he was pulling away from Sypha’s hand and sniffing carefully, but the wind was in the wrong direction for him to determine anything from the scent. It could be a night creature, but it could also be something for them to eat. He left Trevor and Sypha behind as he took two strides silently towards the noise and there was more rustling as whatever it was proceeded through the underbrush. He froze, listening again, and at the next minuscule noise he was off like a flash, running towards it as silently as he could. He covered a great distance in seconds, leaving the Estate behind and disappearing into the blackness of the trees.

It was a small deer, nibbling the tips from low-hanging cedar boughs. Adrian skillfully wove through the thick trees and came upon his prey, which took off as soon as it sensed danger. It was fast. He was much faster, but he didn’t want to catch it too easily. He slowed, letting it gain distance but remaining close enough to hear the pounding of its heart. The white tail was raised high in alarm, the panicked animal trying to lose him in a series of graceful changes in direction. They were rather ineffective considering his speed, but he needed this; the chase. It was something uncomplicated and instinctual that could quiet his mind and pull him from the accumulated stress of the past weeks. He needed to get away from Sypha and Trevor, from the Hold, and from the prospect of doing something that would render pointless his years of self-denial in a single moment.

The animal had plenty of stamina so he chased it for awhile, letting it get ahead of him then closing in and sending it sprinting once more. He listened only to the sound of its small hooves digging against the earth and the sound of his own panting. Eventually he could see it was tiring and he closed the distance between them, leaping towards it and sinking his teeth into its flank. It twisted and kicked at him and he released it, licking blood from his muzzle as it fled with renewed energy. It was breathing heavily; he could see foam at the corner of its lips and the way its nostrils flared and it eye rolled in terror. He pursued it for another stretch, the blood seeping from the wound down its leg. It missed a step a few times, slowing to a limp once or twice before he closed in and it found the energy to escape once more.

Adrian was not in the habit of terrifying forest creatures for sport. He _did_ enjoy the hunt, stalking slowly closer, springing from the trees and taking his prey, sure. But he didn’t terrify it like this. He didn’t purposely drag out the kill. Tonight… his head was spinning with urges that he’d brought under control by the time he was barely five years old. Talking about biting humans with Sypha had dredged things up that had been tucked in the recesses of his mind for years. Once he started thinking about it it all came back to him in a torrent, and as his paws flew over the forest floor he was pulled into old memories which he hadn’t thought of in ages.

Certainly Adrian’s early life had been anything but typical. Neither of his parents had experience with raising a half human, half vampire child, but they loved him and worked hard to teach him everything they could. He’d grown quickly, nearly twice the rate of a human child. Both his parents tried their best to keep up, but they were not perfect. His father in particular had struggled to balance Adrian’s vampire nature with his softer human side. Vlad Dracula Tepes was no shining example of rectitude or probity. He murdered. He maimed and tortured. He deceived those closest to him, and in trying to raise Adrian he had often crossed into dark territory that had no business being part of a child’s upbringing. But it wasn’t all terrible. Adrian remembered almost everything from around three years on. One of the first things he could recall was his father feeding him from his wrist. He’d apparently also breast-fed as an infant, but had needed blood once his teeth had come in. His small baby canines had descended when he was about a year old, and had shed and been replaced with his adult fangs when he was five, by which time he was nearly the size of a ten year old human child.

When his fangs grew in Adrian had begun to experience more powerful waves of thirst, and to notice how humans smelled and how desirable they were. There were always humans in the castle and he’d lost himself several times in instincts that he hadn’t learned to deal with yet. They smelled incredible, made his teeth itch strangely, made his mouth water. Their heartbeats were hypnotizing, and he fell to stalking and tracking behaviours without realizing they were happening. His mother, for some reason, was not a source of these reactions. Dracula speculated that it might be something to do with their shared blood, the work of some ingrained survival mechanism.

It was at this time that his father had weaned him from his wrist onto human blood. His body _needed_ it to grow; even Dracula’s blood was not a worthy substitute. It had not been an easy process, but Adrian got the hang of feeding from humans eventually, and had learned to control his urges and behave like a young man should. It was uncomfortable to touch strangers, but hunger was a powerful motivator and had driven Adrian to do as his father instructed. He was an incredibly patient teacher. He encouraged his son and even soothed him when he became frustrated and angry at his conflicting natures. Adrian learned how to take the shape of the wolf at this age and he spent countless hours roaming the forest at his father’s side, learning to track and stalk prey under Dracula’s tutelage. His father could become a wolf as well – a large, black wolf with deep red eyes. Taking game was a pleasure they shared together, and these were Adrian’s first experiences hunting for himself. He shared a strong bond of trust and closeness with his father, whom he relied on to teach him to understand himself and to use his gifts. He could not possibly have learned what he needed without this guidance.

The matter of death presented itself relatively early on. Dracula allowed the inevitable to come about on its own, making no move to stop it. The first time he had killed a human by accident Adrian didn’t understand what he’d done. He had tried to revive the victim without success and when he asked his father what was wrong Dracula had explained that he had taken too much blood for the body to sustain itself, and that the human had died. While human life was not to be destroyed senselessly, death was an inevitability of vampire nature.

Adrian was horrified and crushed, overwhelmed with confused guilt. He’d cried pitifully, and had hidden in his room for days before his mother had coaxed him out. His parents had argued loudly in their personal chambers. Lisa was furious with Dracula for allowing the incident, and Dracula was adamant that Adrian must learn and understand even the less pleasant aspects of himself. He was son to the King of Vampires and killing and death were facts of that life, no matter how much Lisa wanted to shelter him and protect him from them. Adrian could easily hear the exchange; his senses were sharp and it would have been impossible not to listen. He refused to touch another person from that point on, and only accepted decanted blood from the castle stores for weeks afterwards.

His father had then locked the decanted blood away and starved him. Not horribly, but he was denied access to blood until he began to feel his teeth ache and itch and he’d snarled at his mother angrily over something trivial, for which she’d sternly reprimanded him and forced him to copy medical definitions from her doctor’s books for hours in punishment. He seethed with unwarranted frustration the entire time, clenching his teeth and raking his claws along the table until they left gouges. She had not been impressed. Adrian lost his temper again when she scolded him for damaging things needlessly. She had always told him that she would treat him like a gentleman and that she expected him to behave as one, but he had been far from it by the time Dracula sent her out of the study for her own safety.

He vividly remembered kicking over the desk and sending ink splashing all over the books and the floor. He’d ruined one of his mother’s rare books entirely and he’d gotten ink on a priceless hand knotted carpet from the Orient. His father then brought him to see the dungeons, where many desiccated, starving vampires were in varying stages of suffering. Some were too frail to move any longer, others maddened by hunger and behaving like rabid animals. He’d taken it in with rapt attention, all the while his thirst raging and making it hard to concentrate. Dracula explained in great detail the less pleasant aspects of a vampire’s needs and appetite, and about what he could expect if he did not satisfy that appetite accordingly. He was very thorough in explaining each facet of thirst. Human blood was necessary, especially for his young and growing body. Without it he could expect to end up like the creatures in the dungeons. He trusted that his father knew what was best, and did not complain when he was told they would go hunting afterwards.

They traveled to a nearby town where his father had selected their target, explaining only that the man was deserving of his fate. He hadn’t been old enough yet to fully formulate his own moral compass, nor was he yet strong enough to deny his body what it needed to grow. Dracula subdued the man, and together they drained him dry. That was the only time Adrian had ever participated in hunting a person. He had been so hungry that he’d barely registered the wrongness of the act until he was sated.

After dawn broke he lay in bed thinking much more calmly and he realized how entirely what he’d done conflicted with being a good person. He cried for hours. He destroyed his childhood bedroom, smashing his toys and ripping up his bedding with his claws. When he finally managed to fall asleep he had nightmares, so he spent the next days avoiding sleep as much as he could. He clung to his mother for nearly a week, morose and inconsolable, avoiding his father and spending long stretches staring out of the window in one of the highest towers, shifting out of the sunlight and replaying the scene in his mind over and over. His mother had not been aware of what transpired that night and while he was not specifically forbidden from confiding in her, his father made sure he knew how much it upset her to discuss such things. Guilt and conscience were often called on to manipulate Adrian in some way, and it worked well.

He was deeply conflicted and struggling to piece together who he was supposed to be. Existential crises were not meant for children. Finally he broke down and confessed to his mother why he was so upset, and begged her to help him understand what to do. She held him and let him cry until he was merely whimpering in her arms. Later on he could hear Lisa and Dracula arguing once more behind closed doors. The next night Lisa took him away from the castle. They stayed at her cottage outside of Targoviste for a month. Adrian helped her prepare medicines and tinctures for her patients, and played by himself in the woods. When they returned to the castle his father gave him thorough lessons on restraint and self-control, on feeding more carefully, without even leaving a mark. His mother had been sternly standing by the door of the room, arms crossed, glare pinned on Dracula, who nearly winced when she sent a particularly nasty scowl in his direction. After that she’d encouraged Adrian to talk to her if he wasn’t sure what to do, and he’d been relieved to know that he didn’t have to figure it all out alone.

It had taken him another year to finally hone his control and perfect his restraint. Eventually he discovered that he could satisfy himself by drinking the blood of animals, and then he did not need to be so reserved or worry about anyone being hurt. He experimented with how much to take and how often, and intentionally tested his own limitations so that he would better understand his body’s needs. He became very absorbed by the personal challenge of gaining absolute control over his appetite and began to feel a sense of accomplishment when he denied himself. It was hard to wean completely off of human blood, however. There was a difficult period where he tried a few times, but his growing body seemed to need at least a little human blood to function properly. By the time we was around ten he was physically finished growing and then he was more successful. When he was able to stop entirely there were many unpleasant side-effects including no longer being capable of magic, but ultimately he was satisfied that it was a fair exchange for not having to hurt people. In time it became easy, and he mostly forgot about the awkward stages that had led to his ‘animal only’ diet.

Adrian’s decision to give up something so fundamental to vampires was not well-received. His loss of magical ability meant that he no longer took practical magic lessons from his father. These were replaced with extra magic theory, and especially with time working on the sciences. Dracula changed his tactics of persuasion, thinking that if Adrian had a better understanding of _why_ human blood was necessary, that he would perhaps come to his own logical conclusions and desist his foolish refusal to consume it. He was brought into the laboratories with increasing regularity to assist with research on the matter.

They performed several studies to try and isolate what specifically satisfied vampiric hunger. The research suggested that vampires needed something which they could no longer produce after the transformation. There was also the possibility that human life force was greater, or somehow different than that of animals, and therefore more nourishing. Adrian volunteered his own blood numerous times for his father’s experiments so it could be compared to more typical examples. The fact that he was half human seemed to confirm the hypotheses; he needed less to be satisfied, and could go longer between feedings because his body produced some amount of the unknown ingredient. After he’d given up human blood entirely, Dracula had noted differences in his samples which were similar to malnourishment. His father cautioned him against doing anything that would leave him vulnerable, and Adrian ignored that warning in favour of his moral high ground.

While they worked well together in the lab, this period signaled the beginning of tension between father and son. He was never to speak to anyone about his refusal to drink from humans. It was an embarrassment and also an exploitable weakness for Dracula’s enemies. Life went on as usual for the next few years, but Adrian began to challenge his father with increasing regularity. Many times they fought, Adrian never walking away unscathed, and often he didn’t _walk_ away at all. He got used to that – he even looked forward to testing himself against his father – every time he refused to give in he felt like he’d won. Each time he was pushed to his limit he honed his skills with both body and blade more acutely. He had to use everything he had to keep up and he learned not to let injury or temptation distract him from his virtue. Part of him relished the challenge. Another part of him simply liked to fight. In his early teens he picked arguments and attempted to bait Dracula into meeting him in battle time and again, much to the displeasure of the other castle inhabitants who were often disrupted by their violent altercations. In time, however, the tension between them grew closer to animosity. Adrian wanted Dracula to accept his choices, to accept _him_ , and Dracula wanted Adrian to fall in line. He started to see his father’s selfishness and greed, and to change his perception of the man he had always respected and trusted.

When their fighting became too dangerous and stressful Adrian’s mother decided to leave the castle. Before that time she went back and forth between it and her cottage, serving patients and gaining valuable experience as a doctor. Adrian had gone with her many times, but he’d always felt more at home in the castle. Dracula was furious when she said she was leaving permanently. He blamed Adrian. He forced him to go with her. He told him that he would never belong with the humans and said it was time that he understood that.

For the first time in his life he was completely, forcibly immersed in the human world. It was not an easy transition. As much as he hated some parts of life in the castle, he was able to be himself there without worry for how he might be seen by others. Targoviste was overcrowded and overwhelming. It was loud and filthy, and he was disgusted by the peasants who stunk of sickness and lacked even basic education. His mother worked hard to teach him to be more accepting and understanding of those less fortunate. She encouraged him to assist her while she treated patients, and to help others whenever possible. She taught him to be kinder, and gentler. She tempered his selfishness and pride, and taught him about his own humanity by revealing it to him through acts of charity and good will. She paid special attention to the results of such acts, helping him to understand how much small kindnesses could improve people’s lives. Eventually he grew to love the peaceful lifestyle they adopted and began to realize how much he had been affected by living in his father’s violent shadow.

She also encouraged him to socialize with other teenagers from time to time but Adrian felt awkward and he was not very successful at making friends. He was very much out of his element, and felt he had nothing in common with others his age, all of whom he appeared older than. His mother had pushed him hard to connect to the humans, and he had tried, he really had, but it was a slow process. People were somewhat wary of him, or he didn’t know what to say to them. He _did_ get better at it in time, and life was peaceful and quiet, and whenever he needed a break he could go into the woods and take the form of the wolf and run until his paws ached pleasantly, or hunt and follow his instincts for awhile. He spent a lot of time doing exactly that. It grounded him. It was simple. It was somewhere that he didn’t have to be half one thing or the other, he could just be himself.

As he grew older he often returned to that coping mechanism when he was stressed or confused, and let running and hunting clear his mind and give him perspective.

After the last several weeks of horror in the Belmont Hold Adrian needed that very badly. He was angry and sad, damaged by what had transpired and struggling to come to terms with the experience, and now there was _another_ thing tugging at him, forcing him to reconsider something he’d prided himself on choosing many years ago. It was too much. All of it was simply overwhelming. The entire concept of drinking human blood dredged up memories that were both upsetting and wistfully heartwarming. They contended with his biology and he was left a mess of conflicting urges and values.

In short, it was quietly tearing him apart.

An hour of running after a wounded animal was not going to fix that, but it brought a small measure of familiarity to a situation that felt wildly out of his control. That was better than trying to understand why he suddenly felt like he was getting his fangs for the first time all over again.

He closed in on the deer once more and this time he made the killing blow, leaping from between two pine trees and gracefully landing in front of it. He tasted blood when his teeth closed over the animal’s throat, blocking off its oxygen as he waited for it to lose consciousness. When it fell limp in his grasp he adjusted his mouth and fed from the wound, deepening it so the heart pumped the blood to him freely. He drank his fill, hoping that it would curb his sudden unwelcome preoccupation with Sypha. He could not imagine going around hour after hour thinking endlessly about her pulse or of biting her. That would be torturous.

After he was finished and the animal was dead he tore into the belly to relieve it of its entrails, not wanting to clean the kill back near the entrance of the Hold. The work was messy and he had blood on his head and muzzle, and on his chest and forepaws. He knew Trevor and Sypha would see it when he returned, but after everything else they’d seen lately he didn’t think they were about to run screaming from a little deer blood. Especially not after he brought them dinner. If he was to be perfectly honest with himself he liked hunting for them more than he let on. It felt good to take care of them.

He dragged the kill back the way he’d come, emerging from the trees to find that Trevor and Sypha had collected wood and had started a fire, the coals already hot and a warm glow washing over the skeleton of the ruined house. There was a pot burbling over it, and Adrian could smell vegetables from it. They’d selected a reasonably dry area where several large stone blocks were scattered, and they were sitting together on one of them sharing an intimate, slow kiss. Trevor was stroking Sypha’s back gently, and she was leaning into him with her eyes closed.

Adrian stilled to watch them before he moved closer. He was acutely aware of the harsh juxtaposition of him with his torn up kill clamped in his blood spattered teeth and them soft and warm and alive, sharing a moment of sweetness. Usually he didn’t feel too set apart from Trevor and Sypha – all three of them were accustomed to death and violence after all – but he did then. It was enough that he almost ran back into the trees, but that simply _couldn’t_ be his solution to everything and he’d already turned tail and fled once that evening.

Trevor must have sensed his presence because he turned to greet him, arm curled around Sypha’s waist. “You got something,” he observed, then turned to Sypha and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I told you he’d get something.”

“Gross, Trevor,” she laughed, pushing him off her and wiping the spit from side of her face with her hand. “You can have this back,” she said and wiped her hand on him before he could squirm away. He shoved her playfully and she flailed and nearly fell off the stone they were sharing. They both started laughing, then kissed again between giggles.

Adrian dragged the deer over to them and dropped it unceremoniously a few paces from Trevor, looking from one of them to the other for a long second. They broke apart and eyed his bloodied countenance but didn’t seem bothered by it. He relaxed considerably and stretched out in front of the fire, sinking into a laying position to lick the blood from his paws while he tried to work up the nerve to return to normal and talk to them. At the very least the time spent reflecting had helped him to remember how he’d managed his instincts and urges when they first manifested all those years ago. Sypha’s heartbeat wasn’t such a din in his ears now and he was sure he would have a better hold on himself. That was a relief. He still didn’t know how he was going to broach the topic of biting her with Trevor, but at least he wasn’t so distracted anymore.

“Are you going to stay like that all night?” Trevor asked, obviously not impressed but no longer sounding angry.

The hunter studied Adrian’s wolf form, perhaps for the first time getting a good look at him in the light. He met Trevor’s blue stare with his own warm gold eyes, but looked away after a few seconds, back to his paws. He would clean as much blood off as he could before he changed back. He didn’t want it all over his clothes.

The hunter was retrieving a large knife from somewhere on his person and he knelt before the carcass of the deer, looking it over and sinking the blade into it to begin dividing it at the major articulations. He glanced at Adrian after a moment. “Thanks for doing the messy part, that will make this a lot easier to process,” he continued his work, separating off one hind leg and laying it aside as he moved to the next section. “I have to say, we’ve eaten really well since you started traveling with us.”

“I second that,” Sypha said from her position perched on the large rectangular stone. She watched Adrian clean his fur for a minute, then stood up and began rooting through her bag of cooking supplies. She retrieved a scrap of cloth and a pot. She set them down, holding her fingers in front of her and creating a sphere of ice which she dropped into the pot, then melted with a burst of fire magic. She tossed the cloth into it and came to kneel beside Adrian, apparently over her wariness of him.

“You,” she said pointedly, “Are filthy. Hold still.”

He paused his licking, peering at her as she wrung the cloth out and brought it towards his face. She hesitated for a second, her hand dwarfed by his mouth full of sharp teeth, then she began to clean his face, dipping the cloth back into the pot of water and repeating the process until the blood was gone from his muzzle. She had to make a new pot of water two more times before she got everything off of his head and chest. He obligingly held still and allowed her to work.

Once she deemed him clean her hands began to rake through his fur. It was wonderful. He found himself leaning into her touch as she dug her fingertips in and scratched him around the head and ears. He couldn’t help letting his tongue loll from the side of his mouth. He put his head in her lap, nearly knocking her over with his huge skull. This was new. He’d never let a human see or touch him in his wolf shape (except Trevor the one time), and he’d certainly never been subjected to this type of attention in it. No wonder wolves had been domesticated. All Sypha had to do was touch his ears and he was ready to roll onto his back and show his belly. The soul of the wolf may be fierce and wild, but it certainly appreciated head scratches.

Trevor put the meat onto the fire and tossed some of the bones into their pot of vegetables, then sat on Adrian’s other side. He was clearly trying to remain objective, looking into the flames and leaning forward to turn the meat as it cooked, but he kept inching closer and peering at Adrian out of the corner of his eye. His fingers twitched. They were still covered in drying deer blood. Adrian watched Trevor watch him and finally he sniffed his fingers and began licking them clean. Eventually one hand came forward and he caught Adrian’s eyes in question, then buried it in his fur and stroked his back with a growing smile. His smile evolved into a full blown grin as he sank his fingers into the white fur and explored him, tugging his mane and scratching thick fur on the back of his neck.

Adrian could not deny how good it felt to be touched. He was clean now – he knew he could switch back – but part of him didn’t want to. He was being lavished with affection and it wasn’t making him want to curl into a ball and shake. He let them both indulge their curiosity and his pleasure for a little longer. Sypha told him how soft the fur on his ears was and he licked her face, making her giggle and push his head to the side. He twisted to Trevor who held up his hands and warned him not to try it. He settled for pushing his nose into the calloused palm and the last remnants of Trevor’s reticence crumbled as he gave in and gave Adrian’s muzzle a rubdown. His eyes fell shut and he laid his head against Trevor’s chest, his tail thumping the ground behind him.

When their exploring hands stilled and they simply leaned on him, he released the soul of the wolf and instantly switched back to his normal form, now sitting sandwiched between them. Sypha wrapped him in a wordless hug and laid a kiss on his cheek and Trevor squeezed his knee and resumed leaning against him. It felt really, really good.

They shared the meat, Trevor and Sypha eating most of it, and the delicious soup made from the vegetables and bones, and watched the fire for awhile as the moon crept along the sky.

“I suppose I should repair that mirror,” Adrian said finally, breaking the spell of silence that had settled over them.

“Probably,” Trevor agreed, shifting so he could loop his arm in Adrian’s and intertwine their fingers. “But I’m so full I don’t want to move.” He patted his stomach with his free hand.

“Me too,” Sypha said from his other side, mimicking Trevor’s motion by hooking her arm in his and lacing their fingers together. She scooted closer to Adrian and he thought it was lovely to be sandwiched between their heat.

“We could stay out here a little longer,” he suggested, squeezing their hands in his and kissing each of their heads in turn.

“Okay,” Sypha answered. “Maybe we’ll worry about the mirror in the morning. Its been a really hard couple of weeks. One more night isn’t going to matter, right?” she twisted slightly to look at Adrian’s face, silently asking him if it was ok to put things off. He was more than happy to agree. One more night couldn’t possibly make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

“That’s a good idea,” he answered and tipped his head to kiss her slowly, enjoying her taste and heat and how soft and delicate she was against him. It was getting easier every time he took small steps with them. The time talking with Sypha earlier had lowered his boundaries, and had rekindled some of the physical closeness that he was struggling with. His run and subsequent reflection had served to quell the incessant distraction of what she would taste like. He was full and relaxed and able to enjoy kissing her without his mind being cluttered and preoccupied.

“Now me,” Trevor insisted from his other side, sneaking a peck against his jaw. Adrian broke from Sypha, her lips wet and catching the light of the fire beautifully, then turned to Trevor and obligingly dipped to meet his waiting mouth.

Trevor’s kiss spoke things he didn’t say out loud. He hungrily worked against Adrian’s lips, seeking entry to his mouth with his tongue and sliding it together with the dhampir’s as he shifted to get closer. His hand tightened in Adrian’s, squeezing his fingers. Trevor broke the kiss to breathe, already panting slightly. It was clear that he was once again working to restrain himself, that he wanted more. Sypha diverted his attention to her, pulling him across Adrian’s lap and catching his lips with hers. He crawled over Adrian and delivered a series of nips and sucks against her.

Adrian found himself watching them approvingly. They were essentially nestled in his lap. It gave him a fantastic view. He put an arm around each of them, playing with their hair while their tongues danced in front of him. His lips tugged into a smile and he eventually just pulled them both against his chest in a tight hug, holding them for a long moment and nuzzling against them both.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing each of them once more for good measure. He then rose gracefully and flashed out of view, darting back into the Hold as fast as he could, carefully ignoring the scene at the top of the first landing. He retrieved the bottle of wine that he’d been saving and returned to the edge of the fire just as quickly, appearing beside them in a flash of red aura, bottle in hand. “If this is going to be our last evening here, then lets enjoy this while we can,” he said, sitting back down beside them and placing the bottle on the ground. “I’m sure we will want to carry as few things as possible if we are traveling on foot.”

“There’s another bottle?” Trevor said in surprise, looking back to Adrian.

“I was saving it, there were only two good ones in the cellar.”

“Every time I think you’ve blown my mind you do something else amazing,” Trevor said dreamily and Sypha rolled her eyes.

“Can you open it without a corkscrew?” she asked, picking up the bottle and studying the cork and the waxen seal over top of it. Adrian smoothly plucked it from her hand.

“Of course I can.” He set it down and tugged one of his gloves off. He raised his index finger, extending a claw.

“That’s not going to work,” Trevor said skeptically.

Adrian sniffed at Trevor’s lack of faith and sank his nail deep into the cork, letting it grow a little longer so it widened and gave him some purchase. He wiggled gently, experimentally testing if he had purchase. He didn’t want the aged wood to break apart and fall into the bottle. Luck was on his side as it gave in to his coaxing, sliding out of the neck with an audible _pop._ He set the wine down and held up his finger, examining the cork to see if it still looked alright. It wasn’t rotted and he could smell the alcohol on it. “Its fine,” he said of the wine, pulling the cork free and setting it beside the bottle.

Trevor was already reaching for it and taking a deep swallow. Adrian and Sypha shared a knowing look, smirking at each other.

“You’re so predictable Trev,” she laughed at him when he came up for air, wiping his lips on the back of his arm.

“That’s the last bottle from your family’s cellar, shouldn’t it be savoured?” Adrian said slowly, meeting Trevor’s eyes.

The hunter shrugged. “I was thirsty,” he passed the bottle to Sypha, who took a more measured swallow.

Adrian smiled at him. “Don’t ever become a vampire. You’d be insatiable.”

Trevor froze for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between concern and surprise. “You… I mean… that’s...” he trailed off and snatched the bottle back from Sypha who laughed at him.

“Trev, he was kidding.”

Trevor eyed him warily.

Adrian gave him a sly grin with a flash of fang.

Sypha dissolved into laughter, shoving Trevor’s shoulder and making him nearly choke on the over sized swallow he’d taken. His cheeks were turning pink, whether that was from the alcohol or the embarrassment it was hard to say. His bottom lip formed into an amusing reproachful pout and he offered Adrian the bottle. He considered it for a moment then accepted it, holding it while he contemplated actually taking a sip. As he traced a finger around the neck Sypha scooted closer to snuggle against his side.

“I wonder where we will go tomorrow,” she said softly, looking into the flames.

Adrian put his arm around her, hugging her against his body. “I have no idea,” he said, and finally tipped the bottle to his lips, ignoring the unpleasant odour and flavour as the wine flowed thin and bitter down his throat. His nose wrinkled and he passed it back to Sypha. The warmth bloomed in his belly, flowering outwards.

“You can’t worry about that kind of thing,” Trevor interjected, picking up his bloodied knife from earlier and wiping it clean with a rag. It glinted in the light of the flames. “We’ll go wherever we need to to get this done and kill whatever’s in the way.” He examined the blade, finding more blood on it and making another pass with the cloth.

“How do you do that?” Adrian asked him, running his hand along Sypha’s upper arm.

“Do what?” he tucked the knife back into wherever it had come from and reached for the wine once more.

“Take it all in stride,” Adrian answered. “Everything. The war, all the death, the uncertainty. Doesn’t it bother you to never know what to expect? To have no plan?”

Trevor snorted derisively, as if that were obviously ridiculous. “If you plan for something that’s a sure way to be disappointed. I have no expectations and even if your dad wasn’t waging this fucked up war I still wouldn’t. If you don’t have anything then nobody can take it from you.”

“Trev, that’s not true,” Sypha said, putting her hand over Adrian’s glove. “If you don’t have anything to lose then nobody can take it, sure, but then you also have nothing to live for.”

Adrian looked between them, watching the hunter take another pointedly long gulp from the bottle. His cheeks were certainly flushed now, but the tone of the conversation was not going to lend itself to the topic he and Sypha had intended to bring up. He took a breath, thinking about what he knew of Trevor’s life, and understood easily why he was so jaded. He’d lost everything from a young age and had been wandering mostly aimlessly ever since. His attitude made sense, given his life experience. “If it weren’t for my father’s war and the night creatures, what would you do?” he asked, contemplating how he would answer the question himself.

Sypha took the bottle before Trevor could finish it, tucking it between herself and Adrian. She was clearly thinking on her response. “I’d still want to travel and help people. I like the adventure, but someday I’d like to try having a house. Just for awhile. And I want some kids.”

Adrian smiled at her answer. It sounded grand. Trevor was looking into the fire with a dark expression, like he was remembering something horrible. He’d taken one of his small daggers and was twirling it in his hand with practiced ease. He didn’t offer any answer to Adrian’s query.

“Trevor?” he asked gently.

The hunter’s face twisted with sudden anger. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I would do. If there weren’t anymore monsters to kill then the world wouldn’t really need another Belmont, would it. I guess I’d just… find a tavern somewhere and drink until I forget about all the shit or someone needs help killing something.” He glared into the flames.

“Wouldn’t you rebuild you family home?” Sypha asked.

He scowled and the dagger danced between his fingers. “Why? What the hell am I going to do with a gigantic estate full of nothing but horrible memories and books I can’t read?”

“You could use it to help people,” Sypha said, reaching out and putting her hand on his leg. “You could teach people about night creatures, train them to defend themselves. You’re good at that. I think you’d like it. You could have a family. _We_ could have a family, someday. All of us together. After this is over.” The hand she had on Adrian’s squeezed his fingers to let him know that she meant him too. His eyes widened.

Trevor glanced at her with a surprised look, his scowl disappearing in the wake of an unexpectedly vulnerable expression that seemed almost hopeful for a moment before it hardened and he stared back into the flames. “Sypha, I’m excommunicated. _He’s_ not even human. How is that going to work, exactly?”

“If we defeat Dracula I’m pretty sure you can be repatriated. And if not, Adrian will have a magic castle that can take us anywhere. We can go wherever we want.”

“Uhm, Sypha, I told you I don’t know about the castle…” Adrian said. She was making a lot of assumptions.

“Nevermind that, we have to actually beat Dracula first, before any of this stuff. Most likely scenario is we all die. And if we do, by some highly unlikely stroke of luck manage to win, what then? You think it will be happily ever after? All our problems magically disappear and life is great? No fucking way.” the bitterness was evident in Trevor’s voice.

Sypha shook her head. “Of course not. But if we win, then we have a chance. We have possibilities. That’s worth fighting for.”

Trevor _growled_ , evidently not sold on Sypha’s optimism. Adrian was still thinking about what she’d said about having a family. He hadn’t thought of that before. Surely she didn’t think they could do that together… all three of them? He hadn’t meant for things to go this way when he’d asked his question. “Lets just stay focused on getting to the castle,” he suggested in hopes of changing the subject.

Sypha didn’t push the topic any further. “I guess you’re both right. We should concentrate on what’s in front of us before we look at what’s past it. But both of you need to at least consider that there could be something good after. You both deserve to be happy. We all do. Trev, come here,” she opened her arm, bidding him to join them.

Trevor slipped the dagger he’d been fingering back into its sheath and swept his eyes over them both. The were a little glassy, but they held a lot of unspoken sadness in that moment. He grunted apologetically. “I’m being a cocksore. Its just this place… its fucking me up.”

“Then come here and let us help you relax,” Sypha said again.

“Why don’t we take the rest of this wine back inside,” Adrian said. The fire was dying down, and he thought it would be more comfortable for them inside rather than on the hard damp stones.

They all agreed on that. A few minutes were spent gathering things, stringing up the remains of the deer and smothering the fire, then they proceeded together back into the Hold.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I wanted to really dive into what its like to be a one of a kind creature who's parents haven't got a clue. Vlad is obviously not a shining example of great judgement calls. Nobody ever implied that marrying Lisa and becoming a father made him any less the King of Vampires. Adrian's childhood was rather unorthodox as a result. He doesn't hate his father, but those sweet bonding moments were often tainted by much darker things which helped Adrian decide to be the man he is now.
> 
> Also, its high time he discovered the joys of head scratches in wolf form. 
> 
> Thanks so much for the amazing comments, its very rewarding to receive all the feedback and encouragement!


	17. Part Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you SO MUCH for the amazing response to the last two chapters. I'm so touched that people are enjoying this!  
> I know the pace is rather slow... eh its like 80% introspection and description and 20% things actually happening. I am learning as I go, and trying to get better at balancing the pace.

**Part Seventeen**

They gathered together on the cots by the light of a single lantern. Adrian removed his boots, gloves and his coat, folding it carefully and placing it on a nearby chair. He set the remainder of the wine on the table beside the lantern. It cast a long shadow along the worn wood and onto the wall behind it. Unlike the rest of the cavernous Hold this space was cozy and comfortable. Adrian could _almost_ relax here.

Trevor thoughtlessly discarded his clothes in a heap, keeping only his breeches as he crawled onto the bed and laid on his back in the center of the two small cots. Sypha removed her outer robes and her arm sleeves, but kept the black dress which she wore beneath her other layers. She leaned her back against the headboard and began raking her fingers slowly through Trevor’s hair. It put an immediate smile on his face and he stretched languidly, rumbling a contented purr of approval. Adrian smiled at the pair of them together and Sypha met his eyes, beckoning him to join them. He leaned against the table for a moment, simply watching Sypha’s fingers as they carded through the dark brown strands of the hunter’s hair.

She knew how to handle Trevor. He’d been sulky when they talked around the fire, but now he was far more sedate, settling nicely as she worked a different kind of magic. Adrian hovered between the table and the cots and finally deemed to crawl onto one side and sit beside Sypha at the head of the bed. He sidled up to her warmth and took a selfish moment to simply enjoy being close to them both, the things he’d been remembering and discussing in the past hours all washing over him in a mixture that left him wanting to ignore all of it and just bury himself in Sypha’s lap. Instead he stretched his legs out beside Trevor, his bare toes stark white in contrast to the honeyed tan of Trevor’s chest and abdomen. His hands lay loosely in his lap, fingers toying with the corner of one of the blankets.

“This is nice, all of us together,” Sypha said once Adrian was settled. She favoured them with an affectionate sweep of her blue eyes, lingering on Adrian’s for a long moment before she broke the look and began massaging Trevor’s shoulders with both hands.

Adrian watched her hands work, remembering how good it felt to have Sypha rub the tension from his neck and shoulders earlier that afternoon. She was a natural. It was quiet for several minutes except for Trevor’s occasional noise of enjoyment. It would be so easy to just sag into the cot and relax, but he knew he needed to have the courage to discuss with Trevor what he and Sypha had talked about. He’d put it off long enough. There was no benefit to waiting, as much as he wanted to find reasons to. He was trying to imagine how he should begin, how Trevor might react to his words. Would he be understanding? Would he be completely unreasonable? Would he want to fight? It was impossible to say. He could make cases for almost any reaction.

Adrian’s apprehension grew as Sypha kept looking over to him, obviously expecting him to start the ball rolling. He was woefully under-equipped for that.

He kept glancing nervously at Trevor. Every time he thought he knew what to say the words died before he could speak them. Finally he hopped off the bed in a smooth motion and took up the wine. He fingered the neck of the bottle and returned to his position on the cot. Trevor followed him with a curious eye. Damned perceptive hunter, he felt like the man could read him like an open book. He took a drink from the bottle and swallowed it begrudgingly. Sypha was watching him steadily now, her hands having stilled on Trevor’s shoulders.

“So,” she began, dragging the word out.

Trevor looked from Sypha to Adrian. He sat up and crossed his legs, turning to face them on the cot. He snatched the bottle from Adrian’s grasp and finished it off in one long swallow, setting the empty vessel on the floor beside the bed with a soft _clink_. The small sound was swallowed up by the dark around them. The room suddenly seemed oppressive and pregnant with the weight of something that lingered between the three of them.

“So,” Trevor said, parroting Sypha. “Are you ever going to tell me what the Hell is going on? You literally turned into a wild animal and ran away to avoid… I don’t know what. Something shitty, obviously. You aren’t going to make me guess, are you?”

Adrian was well aware of the guilty look on his face. He looked down in surprise, realizing he’d accidentally torn a corner clean of the wool blanket. Slowly he met Trevor’s eyes.

“I… uhm- well yes, there is… something...” he fumbled his way through an utterly failed sentence and ended up looking at Sypha to see if she was going to come to his rescue. She smiled encouragingly and grabbed one of his hands.

Trevor looked between them suspiciously. “Is… is she pregnant? Did you guys… I mean have you… you know…” he trailed off, his brow lowered as he thought about that a little more and shook his head. “No that doesn’t add up. Wait… are you guys… fuck. That’s it isn’t it. You’re leaving me. You’re running away together.”

Sypha burst out laughing, snorting in that obnoxious way she did when she thought something was especially funny. “No we aren’t leaving you. Don’t ever worry about that.” She slipped her free hand into Trevor’s lap. He wrapped it in one of his own, gripping her fingers tightly.

“Oh thank God,” Trevor said, visibly relieved. Sypha leaned over and planted a kiss on Trevor’s stubbled chin.

“I was just talking about our future together five minutes ago. This is nothing like that Trev,” Sypha encouraged, easing the tension with her light and reassuring tone.

Adrian watched them and sighed at his own hesitance. This was silly. He was closer to Trevor and Sypha than anyone. Trevor would understand, even if it took a little convincing. He wasn’t unreasonable and what they were proposing put Sypha in no danger. They all stood to gain from this. He needed to simply get it out in actual words, then deal with Trevor attacking him or rejecting him or yelling at him or whatever initial reaction would come of it. He held Trevor’s gaze for a long minute, trying to find the right words.

“Come _on_. A man can only take so much suspense. Just say something!”

“Trev shut up and let him talk,” Sypha scolded.

It was now or never. Adrian took a preparatory breath and opened his mouth to speak. “I…” he closed his mouth, growing frustrated with himself. He berated his own foolish stuttering, swallowing intently and sitting up straighter. When he finally spoke his voice was strong and confident. A small part of him thought his mother would be proud of that. “Yes, there is something I want to talk to you about. I shouldn’t be so anxious, but its a… sensitive subject. This is an unconventional situation.”

Trevor didn’t say anything, but he gave Adrian his full attention.

“I made a decision a long time ago to abide by a certain… personal standard. That choice came with a price. I sacrificed a measure of my power which I didn’t need before. Abilities that I could live without. Now we are at war. Our enemy is the most powerful vampire on the planet and we may benefit from some of those things. Sypha and I had a discussion this afternoon wherein she reminded me of this. She persuaded me to recognize the foolishness of facing Father without every possible advantage at our disposal. She’s right.”

Adrian took a steadying breath, feeling better for having put something out there. It was a start. He searched Trevor’s face for comprehension, but the hunter just lowered his brows until there was a little crease between them. “So you’re saying that you’ve been holding back?”

“Not exactly.”

He could see the wheels turning behind Trevor’s eyes. “Well what are you trying to say then? What ‘personal standard’? What abilities did you give up? You aren’t making a lot of sense.”

“I’ll try to explain. When I was growing up I struggled to find a balance between the part of me which is human, and the part which is vampire. It should come as no surprise that violence and death are deeply ingrained within vampire culture, but you already know that I refused to kill humans, or to feed on their blood after a certain age. I was deeply unsettled by the prospect of harming people. I eventually discovered that I could subsist from animal blood, but the transition was difficult. Before I was ten years old it was impossible. My body required at least small amounts of human blood to grow. Once I was physically an adult I had more success, but my abstinence had unpleasant side effects. I grew weaker. I lost certain abilities. I felt that this was an acceptable sacrifice to make if it meant I didn’t need to hurt anyone. I became accustomed to my new limitations, and found I could manage with relative ease. Unfortunately my decision created a lot of tension between myself and my father. He thought his enemies would use my weakness against him, and he was embarrassed that his son was not behaving in a manner fitting of a vampire prince. As a scientist, he tried to appeal to my sense of logic by collecting data from samples of my blood and tissue, which demonstrated that I was malnourished as a result of my unconventional diet. I didn’t care. I was proud of my choices and I refused to bend to his will. I stood my ground, and have not tasted human blood since that time.” Adrian felt a small swell of pride at telling his story. He studied Trevor’s face, waiting for realization to wash over his features.

“Wait, did you just say that you were physically an adult at ten years old?”

Of course Trevor would latch onto that unimportant detail and not the point of his story. Sypha was looking equally as curious and Adrian looked between them and nodded. “I had an… unusual childhood, as you might expect. I aged roughly twice as fast as a human child. But that isn’t the point. We can discuss the peculiarities of my life at a more appropriate juncture. Lets try to stay focused.”

Sypha snorted at that and Adrian had to wonder what he’d said that was funny. He raised a brow at her and she just gave him a smile, leaning over to give him a peck on the jaw like she’d done to Trevor a moment ago. “You’re doing great,” she whispered to him.

The hunter’s brow was creased in thought as he considered what Adrian had said. “You don’t look very malnourished to me. Seems like you’re healthy as a horse.”

Adrian knew Trevor didn’t want to hear what he was really saying; he didn’t want to give it life by voicing it out loud. He was in denial. Adrian stared hard at him. “There’s no visible difference,” he looked down at himself, realizing that perhaps that wasn’t true. “Well, not much of one, anyhow.”

Trevor exhaled loudly, his shoulders stiffening as his features hardened. His good humour had quickly evaporated. “So we’re talking about blood. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, everything with vampires always comes down to fucking blood.”

Sypha shot him a scowl. “Trevor that isn’t fair.”

He pulled his hand out of Sypha’s. It twitched and closed into a fist reflexively. “Sypha I’m willing to accept a lot of unconventional shit. Our lives are far from normal, and being involved with fangs over here has been great so far, but he said he only ate animals. He _sleeps_ with us for shit’s sake.”

Adrian cleared his throat, trying to take back the conversation before it degenerated into an argument. “I’ve never considered going back to human blood before, Trevor. I have lived perfectly well without it for a decade. Sypha confronted me. She found some books here which detailed studies your ancestors performed on vampires. Human blood is necessary for vampires to retain their full capabilities. I’ve fared better than most because I am half human, but she makes a valid point. Its asinine to face my father with a handicap. I am endangering you both by refusing it.”

Adrian held his ground, not flinching or wincing as he watched Trevor’s expression morph into a serious, hard scowl. His jaw tightened and his neck muscles slowly stood out like cords yanked taut. He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared as he took a long, deep breath and let it out once more. When he opened his eyes they were like two cold gems glinting icily in his face.

Adrian didn’t break his stare away from the hunter’s, hoping that Trevor would recognize his solemnity as he spoke. “Sypha has generously offered me her blood. I insisted that we discuss it with you first, before I bite her, but I have accepted her offer.” It felt like a weight lifted off his chest when he said it. He took a calming breath of his own, flicking his gaze to Sypha who favoured him with an approving smile and a nod. She squeezed his fingers and he squeezed hers back with a small smile. He looked back at Trevor. “She won’t be in any danger. I don’t need very muc-

“Stop. Just shut up. Stop it,” Trevor cut him off sharply, his jaw hard, the muscle clenching visibly. Both his hands were curled into fists and he looked like he was working to restrain himself from some kind of physical attack.

“Trevor, be reasonable,” Sypha said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder. He jerked and twisted to snatch her wrist in his grip, just holding it in the air between them. Adrian was ready to move to her defense if he needed to, which he sorely hoped he didn’t. His heart was sinking to his stomach as he realized that this was not going to go smoothly. He had expected anger, but he didn’t think it would be directed at Sypha.

Trevor gently released Sypha’s wrist, laying it gingerly back in her lap without any harm done. He rolled his shoulders and Adrian could see every inch of him tensed and bunched and ready for a fight, his bare chest and arms literally rippling as he processed Adrian’s words and worked to find his own. His grave expression turned on Sypha.

“You can’t do this.”

Sypha gave an exasperated sigh. “I knew you were going to freak out.”

The hunter shook his head. “I’m not freaking out. You just don’t understand. You can’t do this. You can’t let him bite you.”

She crossed her arms. “Its not your decision. I can, and I will. It was his idea to tell you about it, he wanted to make sure we respected your feelings. Trev its _Adrian_. I trust him. He’s not some strange vam-”

“I don’t care Sypha. No.”

Adrian was battling the rapidly growing desire to unbutton his skin so he could crawl out of it and disappear. He was actually quite proud of himself for explaining the situation as clearly as he had, but now his confidence was shrinking in light of Trevor’s obvious refusal. He’d known the hunter wouldn’t like it, but he thought Trevor trusted him not to hurt Sypha. He tried to interject but Trevor cut him off.

“Sypha look at this,” he said suddenly, twisting on the bed so she could see where he pointed. He had so many scars that Adrian hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was impossible _not_ to see the obvious evidence of a horrid looking vampire bite that had long since healed over. A chunk had been torn out of the meat of his shoulder. This had been no simple pair of fangs dug into the flesh, a bite had been ripped out of him entirely. Adrian winced, knowing that it must have been a hideously painful wound. That he had survived the altercation at all was impressive. Most humans, even hunters, had no chance once teeth pierced flesh. By that point it was already too late.

Sypha’s eyes widened as she stared at the puckered scar for several long seconds. She traced her finger over the disfigured flesh before meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Is that from a vampire?”

“You’re damn right it is. If I hadn’t shoved my dagger between her ribs in the same second she got me with her fucking fangs I’d have been lunch. She tore a chunk out of me almost to the bone. I could see my own tendons moving around. I know Adrian’s not our enemy. I care about him, and he cares about us, but he’s still a vampire. The second there’s blood involved everything will change. He could kill you by accident. You know how strong he is.”

Adrian felt Trevor’s words hit him like a kick in the gut. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Worse was the way Sypha was absorbing it, her eyes pinned to the deep scar as an uncertain look crept over her face. Did she actually believe him? He was incredulous. How could either of them possibly think he would put Sypha in danger? Did they think he was teetering on the edge of self control, barely containing his beastly urges? He’d lived with them for _months_. He bandaged their wounds, stood beside them in battle, watched over them as they _slept;_ did they think him so dangerous? It was preposterous. There had to be some misunderstanding.

Trevor pulled both of Sypha’s hands into his and looked into her face seriously. “You can’t willingly agree to this Syph, I won’t let you.”

Vexed, Adrian huffed and his lip curled with disgust. He stood up from the cot, unable to contain his reaction to their lack of faith. He was revolted by the implication that he might tear into Sypha with such heedless violence. “You can’t honestly believe that I mean to subject her to such brutality,” he gestured sharply at Trevor’s shoulder. “What kind of monster do you take me for?”

He glared at them both, feeling deeply betrayed. How could they believe he would _ever_ do something so abhorrent to someone he cared for so deeply? “Have I given you _any_ reason to doubt me? Do you think so little of me?” His chest was rapidly rising and falling, his breath coming quick and he thought he might actually cry if he weren’t so enraged. “Why would you think for a moment that I would- would-” he was so upset he couldn’t even finish his sentence, instead he just seethed at them both.

Sypha kept looking at Trevor’s scar, avoiding Adrian’s reproachful stare. Trevor was wearing a grim expression that said he wasn’t happy that they were having this conversation. “Honestly Adrian… I haven’t seen anything that would prove me wrong. Any time I’ve seen you uhh… feed, its been pretty intense. The rabbits I brought when you were in the cage? You tore them apart. You even ate the eyes and the fucking _bones_. The goat? You killed it in a few seconds and ripped it open, ate its heart whole, the liver, everything. I watched you take the bear down too. You were so caught up in it I don’t think you even noticed I was watching. You slammed it into the wall so hard the bricks caved, and you drained the entire thing in minutes. Even tonight you got a deer and you came back soaked in blood from head to toe. So yes, I do have a reason to think you’re dangerous around blood. Several reasons, actually. You’re a vampire Adrian, half human or not. Its your nature. You’ve more than proven that you aren’t going to hurt us, obviously. I know you aren’t running around salivating for our blood. I know you’re in control of yourself, but you’ve also shown us that you get pretty vicious around your food and I can’t take the chance that Sypha ends up with a chunk missing or her heart ripped out.”

Adrian was shocked into silence. He stared at the hunter with mounting revulsion, thinking back on each thing he described and realizing that they had only seen the worst. His normal hunting and feeding activities weren’t their business. They were personal. But when he’d been imprisoned and starved they brought him prey, and he had been so desperate by that point that he’d devoured every last shred he could from the small animals. He recalled a rabbit’s empty skull rolling across the floor of the cage and hitting the bars, then looking up to see Sypha’s horrified expression. His stomach twisted, a flare of nausea rising at the memory. He had literally desiccated into a fucking _skeleton_ from starvation – it wasn’t fair to make assumptions about him based on that – but it _was_ true that they had witnessed the most savage facets of his appetite. They had seen him at his very worst on more than one occasion. Those instances had been so extreme, it had never occurred to him they might think such things were normal. He thought it was clear that what had transpired when he was in the cage was an exceptional circumstance. His body had been pushed beyond its own limits. It had been torture.

The final example Trevor had given was from tonight – he hadn’t been bloodied because of some crazed feeding activity – he’d gutted an animal with his face for lack of a better option. That was a messy process, but maybe Trevor hadn’t considered that. Evidently he thought that Adrian just… lost himself in it.

He was filled with so many conflicting emotions at the moment that it was both suffocating and paralyzing together. He was aghast that Trevor thought those things and still accepted him, and he was disgusted and embarrassed that he could think he was such a monster in the first place. He felt tears stinging his eyes, his voice strangled and choked off. He fought to say something in his own defense and he simply couldn’t make himself speak because the lump in his chest arrested his words before they could leave his lips. He realized Trevor was still talking.

“Look Adrian, I know this is not what you wanted to hear. If you have to have human blood to be at full strength then I’ll cut myself and pour some in a glass. Or Syph can if she’s determined that it be her. But we can’t take any chances with bites. That’s reasonable, right?”

Adrian had nearly forgotten Sypha. He glanced at her, scared that she’d be looking at him the same way Trevor was. She was wearing a pained expression on her face now, confused and dismayed at what was transpiring. She obviously hadn’t drawn the same conclusions as Trevor had, thank God, but Adrian could see the fear in her eyes when the hunter listed all the brutal killings they had witnessed Adrian make. She turned wide blue eyes on Adrian. They burned with her question, _were you going to hurt me?_

Tears were sliding down Adrian’s cheeks as he tried in vain to find his voice. He swallowed back the urge to openly sob, knowing he needed to set his hurt feelings aside and explain. It was imperative that he find the right words and correct these wild misconceptions before they went on any longer. Adrian wiped away his tears and forced himself to ignore the way his stomach was heaving and threatening to empty itself. He swallowed back his disgust and ground his teeth together until he was sure he could make his voice work properly.

“Trevor what you are implying is obscene,” he began in as calm a tone as he could muster. “You have clearly gotten the wrong idea about all of this.”

Sypha was watching him hopefully. She visibly relaxed at his words, putting a hand on her chest and exhaling with obvious relief. Trevor was not flinching under his piercing glare, still convinced that he was right.

When they didn’t say anything he continued in the same measured voice. “I would never, _ever_ , injure Sypha in the way that vampire bit you. That is grossly unnecessary.”

Trevor crossed his arms. “I’m sure you wouldn’t _mean_ to, but that’s the thing with vampires and blood. It fucks with your restraint. Makes you lose control.” he retorted and Adrian ground his teeth together so tightly he was sure the other two could see his jaw muscles popping. He tried extremely hard not to snarl at Trevor and show his fangs. Behaving like a vampire right now would be counter-productive, but Trevor wasn’t making it easy. He was battling the desire to throw the hunter across the room.

Sypha shot Trevor an offended look. “Trevor!” she chided him but the hunter ignored her.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he ground out in a low, measured voice that he hoped was not actually a growl. He took a breath, forcing himself to relax marginally. This was important. More important than how deeply insulted he was. “Perhaps I am partly to blame for your misconception. I keep the details of my hunting activities private because they are none of your business, but you are drawing foolish conclusions based on what you witnessed in an extreme situation. That’s going to stop now.” Adrian was standing at his full height, pinning Trevor in place with his intense stare. His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he did not give Trevor a chance to argue with him.

“First, let me remind you that both you and Sypha have been injured around me on numerous occasions, and I’ve _never_ devolved into some kind of slavering beast at the sight or scent of your blood. I have cleaned and bandaged your wounds repeatedly without issue. You have never been in danger and I think you both know that quite well.” He looked between them, seeing no sign of disagreement. Good.

“Second, you said yourself the vampire who bit you was trying to kill you. If she’d managed your throat she would have. There is literally _no_ comparison between that and what Sypha and I discussed. That you would even suggest such a thing is reprehensible.” He took another measured breath, uncomfortable with what he was preparing to say next. He hated to admit weakness at the best of times. This entire situation was beyond humiliating.

“Third, what transpired in the cage was the absolute lowest point of my entire life. I sustained injuries that would kill a man ten times over. Pain beyond what I believed it possible to tolerate. I experienced the complete and total loss of all dignity. Helplessness so acute I am nearly sick thinking of it. You left me to starve for _weeks_. I felt my own body eat itself, watched myself dry up and waste until I was essentially a living corpse.” Adrian had to pause here as a shudder of revulsion nearly made him retch before he could regain his composure. The memories were still fresh and he wasn’t prepared to relive them so soon. He stilled, closing his eyes for a moment and forcing the awful images from his mind. When he opened them again he leveled a searing glare at Trevor, who shifted uncomfortably. “That you would twist that situation around and use it to pass judgment on me is deplorable,” he snapped, eyes burning with indignation.

“Let me make this _perfectly_ clear, Belmont. I am absolutely in control of myself. I have spent my life honing that control, perfecting it and denying myself the very thing I need to thrive because I despise causing pain and fear. I do not take Sypha’s offer lightly. I insisted we discuss it with you. I could easily have bitten her this afternoon. My fangs were at her neck. She was willing. _I_ was not. Because of _you_.”

Trevor had the wherewithal to look both guilty and sheepish now, glancing between Sypha and Adrian, obviously beginning to realize that he was wrong. The dhampir was not finished, however, and was now looming over Trevor with an admonishing countenance. His aura was making the air around them tingle. The hairs on the back of Trevor’s arms and neck stood up. Adrian could see his discomfort, likely his hunter instincts were going haywire, screaming at him that there was a pissed off vampire far too close for comfort. Good. Adrian intentionally let him stew in that, determined to prove himself without hiding anything. If Trevor thought he was some unstable mixture of impulse and violence he was sorely mistaken. Adrian was not teetering between bloodlust and sanity. He was firmly in control of his faculties.

“Since you clearly don’t understand me as well as you think you do, let me spell it out for you. Blood does not trigger some feral loss of composure. There is no maddening wave of instinct which overtakes reason. I would _never_ disfigure someone I care for. That you would even _suggest_ I might do something like that to Sypha demonstrates an appalling degree of mistrust which I am not willing to tolerate. I will not continue this farce. You either trust me or you don’t. I have never hidden my nature from either of you. You know exactly what I am, and until this moment I thought that you accepted that. I have been vulnerable and open with you. I have tried things that scared me and trusted you both to lead me through them safely, and you have. What you described Trevor… I never realized you thought of me like that. Like some barely-contained monster at risk of losing control over myself if my appetite is sufficiently provoked. I am shocked that you would think me so unhinged and still have me in your bed. That would be idiocy. Are you an idiot, Trevor?”

Trevor gulped. “I- uhh… I didn’t mean...”

Adrian waited for him to say something more, eyes unwavering and glittering with hurt. When he next spoke his voice came softer, almost a whisper. “You truly think I would ever hurt either of you?”

Trevor met his eyes, realization and understanding finally colouring his expression. He looked at his lap. “No,” he admitted quietly, looking appropriately ashamed of himself.

“Then why treat me that way?” his voice cracked this time, his bottom lip nearly trembling with the threat of tears. He took a steadying breath, needing to remain objective and see the rest of this through.

“Look I fucked up, alright? I’m sorry. What was I supposed to think? Vampires kill people. I’ve seen it my whole life. I’ve been bitten by a vampire and it was fucking awful. I didn’t want that to happen to Sypha. I thought blood made you… go feral. Every time I’ve seen that side of you its been like that. Even tonight.”

Adrian frowned. “Tonight? The deer? You weren’t even there.”

“But you were a bloody mess when you got back, it was all over you.”

“Because I removed the entrails. As a wolf. Without hands. How exactly do you think I accomplished that?”

Trevor examined his lap intently. “I- uh, I didn’t think of that.”

“No, you didn’t. What did you assume? That I indulged some hedonistic inclination to bathe in blood? Rolled myself in its bleeding corpse?”

“I don’t know… I guess maybe...” the hunter glanced up at him.

Adrian snarled when their eyes met, indignant ire burning in his gaze. “Evidently there is no detail of my life which can remain private without your mistrust and suspicion forcing it into the light,” he had to swallow back a growl at this entire preposterous joke of a situation. No matter what he did or said, Trevor thought the worst of him. It wasn’t fair. He forced himself to sit on the bed again, trying in vain to keep his claws from shredding the blankets as he gathered his thoughts. Sypha eyed him warily, but didn’t shrink away, for which he was grateful. At least _she_ didn’t think he was some kind of monster. When he felt ready he bit his words out in a low voice that was laced with resentment.

“Yes, I do have instincts to hunt and to kill. They do not overtake my sensibilities, but they do exist and it is enjoyable to satisfy them, especially when I am deeply troubled or stressed, as I was by my discussion with Sypha. I never considered tasting human blood ever again and the thought of breaking my self-imposed fast has brought some difficult memories to mind. I admit I have concerns about how it will affect me because of my feelings towards her. I care deeply for her, and I recognize that my vampire side is brought forth by strong feelings, such as arousal or affection. These thoughts were the source of my distraction earlier this evening. I was quite preoccupied with her scent and heartbeat and it was infuriating because I haven’t been swayed by such things since the time I was a small child, when the need for human blood first arose. I easily learned to manage my natural inclinations with guidance from my father, and I wanted to take time to think about that and remember how I dealt with it the first time around. When you were asking me why I was so distracted, that is why. I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet but you kept pushing, so I became the wolf to avoid the discussion.

“I heard the deer and ran into the trees to chase it. I pursued the animal for a time, letting it run because I very much needed that, to hunt something. When it slowed I wounded it on the flank and chased it further, eventually closing in and taking it with a bite to the neck, over the trachea to cut off oxygen. When it lost consciousness I fed on its blood until it died, then I removed the entrails because I thought it would be less troublesome to do it out in the woods than beside the entrance to the Hold. Such a thing is challenging in the form of the wolf as it must be accomplished with my teeth, hence the blood on my muzzle and paws. I dragged the animal back to you and you butchered it. I recall you thanking me for doing the messy part. So there you have it, since you cannot possibly give me an inch of trust, and since you must know every personal detail of my life, there it is. Perhaps you would prefer to accompany me next time, to assure yourself that I’m being truthful.”

As he was speaking Adrian’s face was contorted by anger. Sypha had been very quietly watching the exchange between he and Trevor, and now she deemed it the right time to approach Adrian and put a reassuring hand on his leg, rubbing in small circles. He wanted to lean into her, but he was too upset at the moment.

Trevor listened to him intently with a guarded expression. “I didn’t realize all of that,” he said slowly, but Adrian didn’t want to hear it.

“No, you just assumed the worst of me and never bothered to look any deeper. All you see is a vampire. That’s all you want to see. No matter how vulnerable I make myself you simply won’t recognize that I am more than only that. All of this was a mistake. I should have known better than to throw my hand in with a Belmont. Father was right about humans. I don’t belong here.”

“Adrian that’s not true,” Sypha said quickly but Adrian didn’t give her a chance to say more. He stood in a quick and fluid motion and regarded the pair on the cots, carefully schooling his features into a dispassionate frown. Sypha looked at him, pleading, but he didn’t meet her eyes. He turned and walked out of the circle of light cast by the single lantern, allowing the darkness to swallow him up. As he reached the edge of the light he became mist, just to prove to them – and himself – how utterly different they were, how laughable it was for him to think they could ever accept him. He reformed when he was out of the immediate room, stalking silently through the blackness of the Hold.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was basically just one long conversation. Well... argument. Trevor was being pretty insensitive because he's deeply uncomfortable with the whole blood drinking thing and his past experiences have not helped that. Sypha didn't get a chance to say much between Trevor and Adrian's back and forth.  
> I debated holding this back until I was finished with the whole part that followed but decided to break it into two so it wouldn't be too long, and so I could focus on the next part without going back to this part and tweaking in 8000 times. I hope this chapter had the effect I was going for. Would love to hear what you think!


	18. Part Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just have to say WOW THANK YOU for the response on the last part! I wasn't expecting that, it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 
> 
> This is a pretty big chapter. I was going to chop it, but I wanted everything here to be included in one part, so hopefully you enjoy!

**Part Eighteen**

Adrian’s bare feet carried him silently through the Hold for a stretch, aimlessly making his way around several floors until he found himself standing before the distance mirror, looking at his own reflection in the dark. His mind was racing, replaying snippets of everything he’d said in his own defense and what Trevor had levied against him. The injury was too fresh to examine closely yet the pain made it impossible to ignore. He’d never been forced into defending himself that way before. He was used to standing up for his values, but this was different. This wasn’t about right and wrong. It was about trust. Understanding. Acceptance. He needed time to find his bearing, take a moment to lick his wounds, regain his composure and think of how the situation could best be resolved. What a mess.

He sighed heavily, feeling guilty for reacting the way he had even though it was justified. Adrian knew he could have handled himself better. He’d let Trevor get him worked up, and in the end had stormed off after making a childish comment about not belonging with them which he knew wasn’t true. Sometimes it was hard to feel like he belonged anywhere. He was willing to admit it was a touchy subject for him, and in that moment his emotions had gotten the better of him. He lit the nearby lantern and turned his attention to the mirror, studying himself in the flickering light.

His eyes were soft warm gold staring back at him. They caught the firelight and glittered, flecks of deeper gold laced through the lighter shades. They were framed in long, pale blonde lashes which he knew were rather effeminate. His hair and eyebrows were the same fair blonde. Tendrils draped over his shoulders and down his chest, curling at the tips. He had often wondered what he looked like to other people. Did he look human? Did he look like a vampire? His complexion was light, lacking the darker grey of vampires, but also not as warm or pink as human skin. It was unlike that of anyone he’d ever met. He bared his fangs. They were smaller than most vampires’, but still needle sharp and quite capable of piercing flesh. Not human. Not vampire. Something in between that shouldn’t exist. Something that didn’t belong anywhere. His eyes were drawn to the new scars on his throat and chest. It was the first time he’d seen himself in a mirror since he got them. They were ugly and very noticeable, marring his previously smooth flesh. The mark his father had left him with had been one thing – at least he’d received it defending something important – but these new scars carried no such vindication. They denoted only his own failures. He looked away, wrapping his arms around himself and feeling physically ill. He had never experienced revulsion at his own appearance. On the contrary, Adrian knew he was attractive, and he liked feeling that way. It felt good. It gave him confidence. Would that change now? Would people see his disfigurements and scowl in disgust, or was that only _his_ reaction?

He resisted the urge to shatter the glass as anger flared – he needed the mirror to find the castle – there was no sense in making that any harder. No matter how incensed he was over what had just transpired he also needed Trevor and Sypha’s help. He would have to push his feelings aside and remain focused on their greater goal, but things were not going to be the same anymore. How could they be after what had just come to light? A simple apology wasn’t going to negate everything Trevor had said. He wasn’t sure he could forgive the hunter’s lack of confidence in him so easily, as much as he wanted to.

Just when he was starting to feel like things would be okay between the three of them everything had been turned on its ear. It wasn’t fair. He had worked hard to earn their confidence. What Sypha had offered him was unexpected and confusing, but it was also touching; it wasn’t fair that it had become such a disaster.

He knew he was wallowing in self-pity. He needed to stop. His mother had never allowed such deleterious behaviour. It would be far more beneficial to put his energy to use than spin in hapless circles.

With that decision firmly in mind he redirected his focus from himself to the mirror he was standing in front of. He ran his hands along the metal, tracing his fingers over the scuffs that marred it. It was a lovely piece, the frame made of good-quality iron with few impurities. It had been polished and oiled at one point to keep it from rusting, and it was still entirely intact save the scrapes and cracked glass. It was likely at least four hundred years old, which was why its condition was so remarkable. With one claw extended, he carefully made the corrections that were needed to restore the mirror’s functionality. It only took a few minutes and he could feel the energy emanating from it. It hummed silently under his palms as he grasped the edges of the frame, the magical frequency responding easily to his touch. Aside from his sword he didn’t handle many magical objects. It was good to feel this one come to life in his hands.

A curl of anxiety grew in the depths of his stomach as he acknowledged that he could now use the mirror to see anything he wanted. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what it would reveal. He was thankful that he was alone for the moment. Standing in front of the mirror, he placed one hand on each side of the frame in the correct locations to activate the spell that was inscribed in the metal. He stared into his reflection.

_Show me my father._

Adrian watched as his image blurred and was slowly replaced by something different, a familiar face wearing a gloomy expression of sadness. His features were unchanged, though he perhaps looked more gaunt than usual. He appeared weary and grim, his black hair hanging around his face, much of it shrouded in darkness. Adrian could see flecks of blood dried on the edge of his cloak, nearly indiscernible from the black and red fabric. His father. Adrian nearly lost the image, his heart clenching and his breath hitching at the sight of the man’s image in the mirror. The last time he’d seen his father’s face was when it was contorted in insane rage as he was attempting to tear his heart out. He could still feel the tips of claws buried in his chest, his ribs snapping, the layers of muscle and tendon being easily shredded by his father’s powerful blow. His scar veritably ached at the memory. His eyes were burning with the threat of tears and he made no move to stop them as they slid down his cheeks. He studied the picture the mirror showed him, looking at the details around him, willing the glass to zoom back, to show him Dracula’s surroundings.

He was outside. Obviously it was dark, but the moon was bright and he appeared to be in a clearing, trees thick at the edges. He was standing over a hole in the ground. A grave. Freshly dug, as evidenced by the shovel stuck in a large mound of dirt beside him, and the dirt clinging to his claws. As Adrian watched he bent, his cape sweeping around him, hiding what he was doing. Adrian remembered playing under the cape as a child. He would tuck himself in its folds, laughing as his mother chased him and threatened to tickle him until he squealed with helpless surrender. His father had been a good sport, offering him safe-haven while his mother obtusely pretended she couldn’t find him. In the end they’d both ended up wrapped in the cape together, Dracula inevitably turning the tables on the tickle-war and subduing them both mercilessly until the three of them were laughing so hard they were nearly crying. Adrian shook the memory from his mind and watched the image of his father gathering something from the ground. When he stood again there was a figure in his arms. A human body. Adrian frowned into the mirror, trying to understand why his father would possibly dig a grave for a human.

The dark-skinned man had been relieved of his heart, a gaping wound in its place. The body was not fresh. By the look of it it had been dead for some time, the features distorted and misshapen. The wound was dried at the edges and crusted with blackened blood. The man was bald, the outline of his skull visible beneath the thin veil of his flesh, the eyes sunken behind closed lids. Some simple tattoos marked his face. Adrian recognized the style of his clothing: black armor edged in gold details which covered his neck, shoulders and the undamaged portion of his chest. He was one of his father’s officers, then. A bright red sash wound around his waist, confirming his assumption. A general. A human general in his father’s army. That made no sense.

Adrian hadn’t met many of his father’s current officers. He’d already been asleep under Gresit by the time Dracula assembled his forces. He knew some of the other vampires he associated with, but he had not known of any humans. That went pointedly against everything he knew of his father, who was not trusting of humans even before Lisa’s death. He pondered for a moment, watching as the corpse was carefully lowered into the open grave. Dracula then stood over it, simply staring sadly down into the darkened pit. He was speaking, but the mirror only transmitted images, not sounds. After a time his father took up the shovel and slowly began to fill the hole with dirt, one scoop at a time. Whoever this human was, he had been important. He had been someone his father cared for enough to bury with his own hands. It pained him that he would do this for some nameless human but when Adrian had needed him he had been met with murderous violence. The image flickered for a minute as he lost his concentration and he released the edge of the mirror, unable to see through his own tears.

His hand went to his heart, his eyes falling closed, He let himself be pulled into the painful memory that he had tried very hard not to think about since going to sleep beneath Gresit. After Lisa’s death Dracula had been inconsolable, mad, brokenhearted. He had refused to see reason when Adrian attempted to talk to him. He kept repeating that all of them had to die. In that moment Adrian had realized that there was no other option but to stop him. His own heart was freshly broken from losing his mother, reeling with anger and sadness, and rather than comfort, Dracula had attacked him. He’d been dealt a mortal blow and was left to try and crawl to safety and pull himself back together alone.

He shook his head, trying to shake the memory away, not wanting to relive it again. It was too easy to get dragged into the sorrow of it. He looked back to the mirror, gripping it once more.

_Show me the castle._

His wan reflection muddied and shifted until the image of the castle loomed large and beautiful against a backdrop of dark forest. It looked damaged. There were holes in some of the turrets, the battlements were missing entire chunks, and the figures of sculpted dragons and gargoyles had been smashed. Several windows were broken and some of the connecting bridges between the high towers were no longer intact, but the castle was there in all its glory, limned in the light of the full moon which sat low in the sky behind it. Adrian’s heart ached strangely at the sight, as if he could walk inside and all the horrors that had transpired in the last year and a half would simply cease to be. It was a twisted illusion. He imagined his mother would be there, alive and well, smile bright and full of love. Home. His home, which he missed terribly despite everything which had happened. His grip on the edge of the mirror tightened.

His eye was drawn to a mass in front of the main entrance. He pushed the mirror to focus on that area and the image shimmered and reformed, bringing into view an all too familiar scene.

Pikes.

They jutted obscenely from the grass, horribly out of place in the otherwise peaceful looking forest. Each was at least ten feet tall or more, tipped with a sharpened point. Each pike was fashioned from an entire tree which had been jammed harshly into the soil with supernatural force. They stuck up at odd angles, different heights and diameters. Seven of them in all, each adorned with its own macabre ornament.

Corpses.

Seven dead bodies were impaled upon the pikes, their arms and legs swaying gently in the breeze. Their flesh was still grey and pale in the light of the moon, eyes sunken or rotted away, but recognizable by their fangs, their claws, and their adornments indicating rank or station. All of them were vampires. All of them were Dracula’s own officers.

Seven of Dracula’s vampire generals, impaled brutally on pikes in front of the castle.

Adrian refocused, making the mirror show him each disfigured corpse to he could study it and try to determine what had transpired.

Carmilla was the one he recognized first. She was a horrible bitch that Adrian had never liked. He didn’t have a shred of pity to spare her, no matter how awful her death was. She had been needlessly cruel, and had never afforded his father much respect. She’d obeyed him grudgingly, always secretly plotting her own schemes for power. She was little more than a woman who had been damaged by men for centuries, and sought a desperate kind of revenge. Her heart had been black and empty and her loyalty was questionable at the best of times. The world would certainly not miss her and was absolutely better off without her in it. Her face was stretched and torn upon the largest pike, her skull split by the force with which her body had been jammed onto it. The wood stuck straight out of the top of her head. It had forced her eyes and tongue to pop out and dangle over what remained of her face. Birds had already pecked them away. There was blood all down the length of the wood, painting it black in the moonlight. She had been alive when she was impaled, Adrian realized. Her white hair wafted limply in the breeze, her long red claws sunk into the wood of the tree trunk, perhaps in some vain attempt to free herself before she’d died. It was a horrible death and she had very likely deserved it.

Raman and Sharma were the two he recognized next. He’d met the Indian vampires once as a young boy when they had paid his father a visit. They commanded many troops, and had a large and heavily populated territory. It was to Dracula’s advantage to have them on his side. Likely he had summoned them to serve in his army. His father was royalty among vampires and they could not easily refuse his summons without facing retribution. Adrian didn’t know how willing these two were as allies, but they had seemed to be friends when he’d met them before. Each of them wore a variety of gold decorations, jewelry and shiny armor. They hung dead from the wood which impaled them, their trinkets glittering in the night.

He knew Godbrand as well. The leader of the viking clans, Adrian had met him on a few occasions. He was memorable for his crass attitude and offensive war tactics. He was contorted oddly on the stake. It had penetrated his backside and had exited through his chest, making his head hang backwards. His corpse was already rotting, beginning to sag lower and peel away from the wood. His tongue was swollen fat in his mouth, forcing his jaw open so his fangs gleamed in the moonlight.

Cho. Adrian had never met her, but he knew of her. She had ruled Japan’s vampire clans for ages. She was extremely old, perhaps one of the only vampires he knew of who had lived for millennia. He knew it was her by her robes and the geisha makeup she wore on her face. It was marred in death, her face deformed by the pike stabbing through it. It came through one of her eye sockets, her brains leaking out around the edges.

The other two staked corpses bore European features. One of them was a huge man. He had been beheaded, his body and head impaled separately on the same pike. Adrian didn’t recognize them, but he knew his father had commanded the loyalty of many neighboring nations, so it was reasonable to assume they were from one of those places.

The entirety of the vampire world was going to be thrown into upheaval and turmoil as a result of these deaths. It was inevitable that more war would follow as each region was left without leadership and new contenders would vie for positions of power. Vampires sought the subservience and respect of those they managed to overpower or manipulate into obedience, and control over the human populations upon which they fed. These deaths would only lead to more war.

Adrian stared at the gruesome scene, trying to understand. It was well known that Dracula had a penchant for punishing those who betrayed or wronged him by impalement. He’d witnessed it before. Lisa had refused to tolerate such brutality in front of the castle, but Dracula had still employed this method of punishment behind her back. He’d made sure Adrian understood the importance of sending messages to their enemies. Such demonstrations were not merely posturing. They were a promise of what would happen to anyone who dared to defy them, and they were effective. Most vampires would really prefer not to end up mounted on a stick for all to see. This kind of death was mostly reserved for acts of betrayal and treachery. The generals must have turned on him. All of them, together. It wasn’t hard to see why. As soon as they realized that his intent was not to corral humans into controlled populations of livestock, but instead to annihilate them entirely, they would have questioned his orders. Individually none of them could have refused him, but together they must have thought to stop him. Overthrow him. They should have fled, for their own sake. Still, it was unsettling to see all of them lined up on display; collected together were several the most powerful vampires in existence. Dracula had crushed all of them and he was no worse for wear. Adrian certainly had his work cut out for him. His father was nearly impossible to kill. Even if he were staked or beheaded, Adrian doubted he would remain dead. There were old stories of him being beaten before in one manner or another, and he always somehow managed to claw his way back to the Earthly plane. Rumors of such things circulated, but his father had refused to ever discuss them or offer any confirmation as to what was truth and what was merely the product of gossip and misinformation.

Adrian released the mirror, allowing the images to fade and his reflection to reform on the surface of the glass. The castle was obviously not in a major city at present. Maybe his father was retreating and taking time to reformulate a new plan of attack. The dead human had something to do with it as well, he was certain.

Trevor and Sypha would need to see this. There was no point in revealing more until all three of them were together to watch.

He would have face his companions sooner than he had hoped.

He was hesitant to go back to them, although it wasn’t Sypha he was upset with. He knew it wasn’t really fair to lump her in with Trevor in this matter. She hadn’t been the one making wild claims based on assumptions and half-truths. She’d been caught in between their argument with little opportunity to offer her own input. That was unfortunate, because she might have been the voice of reason. She was good at that, especially when he and Trevor were too pig-headed to settle their own disputes.

Only this wasn’t some petty disagreement in Adrian’s eyes. Trevor had hurt him deeply. He’d listened to Adrian explain, sure, but had immediately jumped to his own conclusions without leaving space for discussion. Trevor had employed all the finesse of a battering ram. His words had been like a series of targeted attacks. He said the most hurtful things at the worst moments and Adrian hated the acid taste of his own anger in the face of it. He hated being forced to explain himself to the only people he thought would understand him in the first place. He was crushed by the misconceptions Trevor held onto after so many months together. Adrian was not unreasonable. He could forgive some of it without any explanation. Trevor had been raised to hate vampires. He’d been hunting monsters his whole life and he’d obviously never befriended any of them. He’d even been bitten by a vampire, which was probably as terrifying as it was painful. It was reasonable that he would assume the worst of them in general. That much Adrian could accept. He had expected that part.

What he hadn’t been prepared for were the assumptions Trevor had made of him personally. As far as vampires went Adrian knew he was probably the tamest, gentlest one around. Couldn’t he see that? Why did Trevor have to expect the worst of him? He felt that he had more than proven himself to be different. To be more. He thought Trevor had deeper confidence in him than that. He thought they had become very close, but maybe he was misreading things.

He considered some of the exchanges they’d had since things first became intimate between them. Trevor was obviously attracted by his vampire characteristics. He’d made that clear the very first night at the inn and several times since. Adrian had touched him with his claws and even grazed his skin carefully with his fangs. The hunter had been nervous of that initially, but had relaxed when Adrian assured him of his safety. Since then he’d never appeared bothered by or afraid of that side of him; on the contrary, he liked it. Trevor even encouraged him to perform oral sex, which was rather a terrible idea if you didn’t have complete confidence in the vampire who’s mouth you were putting your cock into. They had kissed plenty of times and Trevor was often drawn to his fangs, teasing them and intentionally arousing his instincts. He’d never shied away from Adrian’s bloodied countenance either, not in the cage, or any other time.Even tonight when he brought back the deer there was no mention of his blood-soaked state. He hadn’t reacted at all. If they had not discussed it specifically Adrian would never have guessed what was going through the man’s head.

He must have some odd illusion that Adrian’s animal-only diet was keeping him safe. If he really believed vampires went feral over the taste of blood as he had described, then as long as they never spilled it between them it was possible that a relationship could work.He was willing to accept brutal killing as long as it was restricted to animals.As long as Adrian didn’t try to bite him or Sypha. As long as they were safe. Except there would always be a nagging worry that the thing sleeping beside him could become a monster at the slightest provocation. How unsettling. Adrian didn’t think he’d be willing to accept those terms if their places were reversed. But… was this really so different from Adrian being willing to bare himself to a vampire hunter? Trevor could kill him too, if he were so inclined. The difference was that Adrian didn’t question the hunter’s self-control.

Maybe Trevor liked the danger. Maybe he liked knowing Adrian could kill him by accident, as he had so eloquently phrased it. Killing and death were nothing new to him. Savagery, rough living, all of it was taken in stride. Trevor didn’t expect Adrian to be soft and gentle; evidently he believed he was accepting Adrian for what he was. He just had a skewed perception of that.The hunter himself was by no means a saint. He had killed men and monsters alike and he didn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. He was less remorseful than Adrian himself was over causing death. Perhaps he felt he’d found a partner who could understand and accept his own violent inclinations. But what about Sypha? Trevor didn’t worry about leaving them alone together. He didn’t babysit her. Adrian smiled at that. She could easily defend herself. She didn’t need to be watched after like a helpless woman. She could set people on fire with a flick of her finger. She was terrifying. Trevor had found two people who could look after themselves and would never be frightened victims. Two people who wouldn’t shun him for what he was and the things he sometimes had to do. All three of them were potentially dangerous monsters if you looked at it in the right light.

Adrian sighed, turning from the mirror. This introspection was not constructive. He could stand here all night musing about why things had played out this way but it wasn’t going to be resolved by reflection or dwelling. The only way to fix anything was to go back downstairs and face them. At the very least they needed to be able to work and travel together. He didn’t know that he was ready to outright forgive Trevor or crawl into bed with the man just yet, but they had to at least be on speaking terms. He sighed, walking away from the mirror. As uncomfortable as it would be to go back, it was far better than brooding on memories of his father trying to rip his heart out.

He put the lantern out and left the room, wandering to the edge of the walkway which wrapped around the entire floor. He peered over the railing into the blackness and without hesitation launched himself over it and dropped like a stone past several floors, gracefully coming to the bottom of the Hold with barely a sound. He approached the room with the cots silently, lingering outside of it and listening to what Sypha and Trevor were talking about.

“-thick skull.” Sypha was speaking as he came into earshot. She sounded like she was scolding someone. Trevor, obviously.

“Syph I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“An asshole? No that comes naturally, doesn’t it. I can’t believe you. Do you have any idea how the things you said would make him feel? Do you _think_ before you speak Trevor?”

“What, did you want me to lie?”

“No, I didn’t want you to be so _dense_ in the first place! How could you think any of that?”

“Well like I said, I didn’t see any evidence against it. What the Hell was I supposed to do? Not say anything then worry about it _after_ you got your neck ripped open? You don’t get second chances with vampires Sypha. They’re immortal. We aren’t. One little slip and you’re bleeding out on the floor. I’ve seen it enough times to know.”

There was a pause, in which Adrian imagined Sypha pinching between her brows and fighting back the urge to set Trevor on fire. He smiled to himself. Just knowing that Sypha was mad about this made him feel a little better, even if Trevor still didn’t sound convinced. “Trevor Belmont you test my patience.”

“Sypha you can’t tell me you weren’t thinking I might be right before he explained. I didn’t hear you coming to his defense.”

“Oh no. You don’t get to turn this on me. I will admit when I saw the bite scar you showed me and heard the things you said it scared me, but all I needed to do was remember that its _Adrian_ and that was enough. Just looking at him and seeing how hurt he was by your words was enough. Yes, there are things I don’t understand about him, but I’m not afraid of him. I trust him. Trevor... I love him. And I love you. It hurts to see you do this to him, especially after everything he’s been through. He doesn’t have anyone else, you know? We’re his people. We’re his friends and lovers and you basically told him you think he’s some kind of monster.”

“I don’t have anyone else either, Syph. I never have. Nobody ever gave a shit how I felt when they were screaming me out of their towns and throwing piss pots on me and calling me a demon worshiper. Nobody coddled me and told me they cared or that they were sorry. People are shit.”

“Then it should be easy to understand why you need to be better than that. Don’t be shit Trevor. Be better. I know you are kinder than that. You’ve risked your life to help people more than once. You say you aren’t afraid to die, and you throw yourself in harm’s way all the time. You don’t have to do any of that for Adrian. You just need to trust him. Pull your head out of your ass. Apologize to him.”

“I… want to. I know he’s not like the rest. I believe all the things he said tonight. He’s more important to me than anyone but you. I hated saying those things and seeing how much it hurt him. But its hard to forget that feeling of teeth in me. What if we mix feelings and intimacy and blood together and he gets twisted up in it, carried away? What if he hurts you?”

There was a pause and Adrian wondered if they’d noticed him, but then Sypha spoke again, her voice softer and not so angry and sharp.

“I already told you before, its my decision and I’ve already made it. I want to do this. I’d really like for you to be okay with it. You can be there too, so you’ll know I’m safe. I don’t think its going to be a big deal, honestly. Its probably going to take a minute and be over with and all of this worrying and arguing will have been for nothing. Besides, it isn’t fair to always make him conform to our human ways. He’s not only human. Blood is important to vampires. It means something to share it. I love knowing that part of me will be inside him and make him strong. Its amazing to me.”

“You’re a strange woman, Sypha.”

Their voices trailed off and there was fabric rustling, and Adrian imagined that they were embracing. His heart fluttered oddly at Sypha’s words. What she had said about sharing blood meaning something was very insightful. His stomach felt like it had butterflies in it. She had said she loved him. He wished he hadn’t heard it this way, listening in on them talking privately. He hadn’t been meant to hear it, but now that he had it felt warm and soft inside him. It soothed apart of him that was painfully lonely and raw.

He entered the room, trying to make some noise with his feet on the stones so they wouldn’t be startled by his sudden appearance. It was hard to come back like this after storming off. He didn’t want to be the one to extend the olive branch. He wanted Trevor to hang his head and ask for peace, but they had more important matters to attend to at the moment. After everything he’d just heard he knew it was going to take Trevor some time to fully come around, but at least it sounded like he would. Eventually. Adrian didn’t plan to give in too easily, though. He deserved an apology. A real one, not something forced by circumstance or propriety (not that Trevor was ever motivated by the latter).

The pair were indeed in the process of hugging one another tightly, Sypha’s small figure folded into Trevor’s muscular arms. The hunter was still bare-chested and Adrian’s eyes were drawn to the scar at his shoulder for a moment until they shifted and it was hidden from his view by Sypha’s head. Trevor looked up as soon as he passed through the doorway, sensing his presence before he even made it fully into the room. Maybe he’d known Adrian was eavesdropping the whole time. When their eyes met Adrian didn’t look away, he simply regarded Trevor with the most guarded expression he could muster until the hunter looked uncomfortably to the side. Some tiny thing inside Adrian felt a measure of satisfaction at that, like he’d won somehow. That was probably not healthy. Sypha turned to see what Trevor was looking at and her face lit up when she saw him. She shrugged Trevor’s arms off of her and came to meet Adrian halfway across the room, putting her hand on his arm.

He glanced at her uncertainly. He didn’t want Sypha to think that his insulted feelings were in any way her fault. She gave him a watery, hopeful look and he felt himself soften in the face of it like so much melted gold. He wasn’t meant to hear all the things she’d just said, but he had heard them and when he looked at her he couldn’t helpthe way his heart skipped and his stomach flip flopped with a giddy sort of happiness.

“Adrian,” she said with relief and pulled him tightly against her, wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing him with what he assumed was all her might. She put her head on his chest and held him for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against him so only he could hear.

He blinked down at her as she held him like he was the most important thing in the world. His arms came around her gently to return the hug, her scent and heartbeat a balm to his frazzled emotions. He kissed her hair and murmured that it was okay, closing his eyes and letting her hold him until she was ready to let go.

He was aware of Trevor watching them with a frown.

When Sypha released him she stayed beside him with an arm curled around his waist. He looked from her to the hunter. “I fixed the mirror,” he said before any discussion of earlier events could begin. “Its working properly. You need to come look.”

He paused to pull on his boots, coat and gloves, not wanting to wander around the Hold bare foot and half dressed any longer. The sensation of the soft leather sliding over his hands and the high collar brushing the edge of his jaw was an inexplicable comfort to him. It felt like he was protecting himself from Trevor’s judging eyes. A silly notion since the man had seen him naked on numerous occasions, but it was there nonetheless. The hunter evidently harbored no such inclination, not even bothering with boots as he obligingly followed Adrian and Sypha from the room.

A few minutes later the trio were gathered before the mirror once more, the single lantern lit and sputtering through some imperfection in the wick. It caused the flame to dance wildly and make hissing noises. Trevor was hanging back, not saying much and steadfastly ignoring Adrian, who was quite content with that for the moment. Adrian turned to he and Sypha, explaining everything he’d already seen in the mirror in full detail. He described the bodies on the pikes, the human man Dracula had been burying, and the damage to the castle itself.

“I don’t know who the man he was burying could be. I wasn’t aware of any humans in his company, or why he would have one there in the first place. My only guess is that it could be the devil forge master who he has been using to make night creatures. If that is the case then it could be a great boon that the man is dead because it will limit how many night creatures he can make, but that doesn’t explain why he cared enough to bury him. I find it difficult to believe that the man was a friend, but it seems the only logical conclusion. Its fairly obvious that he was killed when the rest of the generals turned on my father.”

Trevor was leaning against a bookshelf with his arms crossed over his muscled chest and a vaguely bored look pasted firmly over his features, though he was obviously paying attention. He didn’t offer any comment. He just regarded Adrian with an indifferent sort of frown. Adrian knew him well enough to see past it.

“How does the mirror work?” Sypha asked, perhaps trying to break the tension between them.

“You place your hands here and here,” Adrian showed her, taking her hands in his and setting one of them over each of the correct positions. He lingered against her, recognizing that it was childish to do so purposely just to irritate Trevor, and doing it anyway. He had his gloved fingers over hers on the mirror’s frame, his body close behind her. “Its magical, you should be able to feel the energy.”

“Oh I can feel the magic from it,” Sypha said with a grin. “Its humming, like your sword.”

Adrian released her hands and stepped back once she confirmed she felt something, so his thoughts wouldn’t interfere with the mirror. “Yes, its ready for you to direct it. Look into the glass and tell it what you want to see. You have to keep concentrating on it or you will lose the image. Give it a try.”

Sypha nodded and took a preparatory breath then stared intently into the mirror. Within seconds an image formed, a large city with a river flowing through it. Adrian recognized it as Braila from a trip he’d taken with his mother to purchase rare ingredients for medications she wanted to make. They’d returned home with far more than that, purchasing numerous bolts of finefabric and several cases of an imported wine which his father was especially fond of. Braila was an important city because it was located near the borders of several other regions. The large waterway flowing to its ports allowed for trade with neighboring nations as well as transport to and from Wallachia. It was a bustling metropolis with many beautiful buildings and historic bridges arching across the canals, and a plethora of markets trading in local goods such as livestock, crops, wax, honey and salt. People came to the markets from many nearby nations. The city was an essential part of the Wallachian economy.

Unfortunately the scene before them was not as Adrian remembered it. Sypha had called up a bird’s eye view of the entire city and much of it was decimated, although more than half appeared intact. Right in the center of the city where the largest bridges had been was instead a gaping black area of destruction. Sypha closed in on the damaged part which came into view revealing massive amounts of rubble, corpses littering the streets and the canal brimming with hundreds of bloated dead.

“Shit,” Trevor said, coming closer so he could see as well.

Sypha pulled the view closer, zooming in on a heap of corpses which were piled together in an open space where several buildings had once stood. Trevor pushed his way forward and examined them more closely.

“Those are Dracula’s vampire soldiers,” he said, pointing to the figures clad in black. “And those are vampires too, but not from Wallachia. Maybe Styrian,” he commented, pointing to the bodies clad in silver coloured armor with pointed helmets.

They looked at the massive pile of corpses. People were dragging more of them over and throwing them on the pile as they watched. There were other dead in the piles as well, several night creatures, and the rest appeared to be human. Most of the dead were vampires, however. Adrian didn’t know how large his father's army was, but certainly a huge portion of it was dead before them, slowly being collected by the survivors. Many more were already burning on pyres nearby. It seemed the whole city was working to dispose of the heaps of corpses as quickly as possible. A lot of beautiful, intricate buildings had been destroyed. The cities largest bridge lay smashed to pieces. There were craters from explosions, the streets chopped up in places by the supernatural battle, but overall the city appeared to be recovering. It had fared better than Gresit or any other city which had been hit by the night horde unopposed.

“This must be where his generals turned on him,” Adrian speculated aloud, looking over the destruction. “But where is he now?”

Sypha let the mirror go and the trio were faced with their reflections, all of them side by side in the glass, their faces darkened by the lantern which was still sputtering behind them. Sypha was in the center, Trevor to her right and Adrian on her left. He met Trevor’s eyes in the reflective surface and the hunter stepped back, breaking his gaze away. Sypha sighed, visibly irritated by the animosity between the two men. She stood up and regarded Adrian.

“You two are going to have to talk to each other eventually,” she said to him, but loud enough that it was obviously directed at Trevor as well.

“Sypha lets just find the stupid castle,” Trevor said with exasperation, poking at a bookshelf to keep his hands busy. He plucked a book from the shelf and flipped it open as if he were reading it. Glancing at the cover Adrian was pretty sure he couldn’t read the language but all he did was snort smugly, turning his attention back to the mirror.

“We should look inside the castle, see what state its in,” he suggested. “Also we should find its location. Its nearly dawn; will need to rest before we can go anywhere. We’ve lost most of the night already.”

“What the fuck?” They both looked at Trevor as the shelf he’d been pretending to be interested in suddenly collapsed and books spilled onto the floor at his feet. He didn’t seem to notice, interested only in what was behind it. His hand smoothed over something and he frowned, knocking on the wall. A hollow sound echoed though the room.

“Its a false wall,” Trevor said, pulling down the row of books below the one that had just fallen. He threw them carelessly to one side and grabbed the wooden shelf with both hands, yanking it forward and out of the way. He tossed it down as well, sending it skittering over the floor until it came to a stop halfway across the room. He was left standing before the now cleared span of wall, approximately the size of a doorway.

“A secret room,” Sypha said excitedly, her eyes flashing as she forgot the mirror entirely and darted over to Trevor who was inspecting the wood for some kind of handle or method of ingress. After a moment he grew impatient and leveled a kick at the boards, shattering the brittle old wood easily even with his bare foot. He tugged the pieces away. Adrian watched with interest, wondering what sort of lovely secrets the Belmonts had deemed important enough to hide within their already hidden, booby trapped underground lair. He got that uneasy sensation that he’d had before entering the Hold and this time he wasn’t going to ignore it. He shrank back, standing well out of the way, just in case. He wasn’t taking a chance on getting impaled, trapped or poisoned a second time.

“Shit,” Trevor yanked his hand back quickly, stuffing his finger into his mouth. Adrian smelled his blood. “Fucking cut myself for nothing. There’s nothing here,” he remarked once he’d cleared the wood away. All that lay behind the shelf was a stone wall. “It really sounded hollow,” he said, disappointed.

“No, wait,” Sypha said, squinting at the wall and spreading her hands over it. “There’s magic here. I can feel it. I can smell it.”

She felt along the bricks, trying to determine what was at work and how to get past it. She closed her eyes, placed both hands flat on the wall and just stood there for a moment. Trevor pulled his finger from his mouth to inspect the small cut. It wasn’t deep, just a little gash on his index finger. A few drops of blood welled in the slice as he held it in front of his face. After everything they had discussed that evening Adrian wasn’t about to comment.

“You sure Syph? It just looks like a wall, feels like it too I’ll bet,” he answered her, his tone skeptical. He put his hands over the wall, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The small bit of blood on his finger smeared over the stones and there was a blinding flash of light. Adrian didn’t hesitate for a second, he disappeared from the room as fast as he could, his aura flaring red around him. He reappeared in the hall outside, patting himself all over, nervous that he might have been caught in a trap once more.

“Where’d Adrian go?” he heard Sypha say from the other side of the wall. Satisfied that he was still in one piece, but unable to shake that sense of danger which he had learned well not to ignore, he poked his head into the room warily.

“I’m here.”

The entire wall had simply disappeared like so much smoke. It just evaporated as if it hadn’t really been there at all. In its place was an opening to a darkened alcove that was emanating a deeply unpleasant sensation which made Adrian’s skin crawl. He hung in the doorway, unwilling to go any closer.

“Why are you out there?” Trevor asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not going anywhere near that room,” Adrian stated firmly. “Its… creepy.”

Trevor snorted derisively at that. “I don’t feel anything.”

Sypha punched him in the arm. “It must be an anti-vampire spell,” she offered by way of explanation. “Its certainly strong. Trevor I think your blood activated the doorway. It must only be accessible to Belmonts.”

Adrian watched from the relative safety of the entrance as Trevor stepped into the darkened, closet-sized space. “Holy shit,” the hunter breathed once he was inside. There were some shuffling sounds and a dragging, scraping noise and he came out pulling a large chest behind him. Adrian dared to take a single step into the room so he could see what they were looking at, but he stayed well away from the entrance to the secret alcove. “It can’t be,” Trevor breathed, running his hands along the gilded edges of the chest.

“Its… an old box?” Sypha guessed, but it didn’t look as if Trevor had heard her. He was still examining the container as if the entire thing were made of gold. Adrian had rarely seen such an amazed look on his face.

“I know what this is,” Trevor said finally, hunting around for something to break the lock with. He grabbed a rusted axe that was part of a display of armor and smashed the lock with the blunt head of the weapon, snapping the entire lock mechanism off of the chest in one strike. He knelt in front of the box and slowly opened it. Adrian watched with interest, trying to ignore the sensation like a hundred beetles walking all over him that was coming from the closet and to a lesser extent, the chest.

The lid creaked and fell back, revealing… a weapon. A weapon that Adrian knew immediately would seriously injure or even kill him if it were to strike him. He shivered, the unpleasant skin crawling sensation intensifying.

Trevor caressed the metal reverently, gathering it in his hands. The links of chain tinkled as they shifted in his grip. He stood up, holding the item between his hands and staring down at it with a queer look of excitement on his face.

“What is it?” Sypha asked, moving to stand beside him and giving the unusual weapon a good once-over.

“This,” Trevor said, his voice laden with pride, “is the Morning Star.”

As if to give emphasis to his words, he slipped into a battle stance several paces away from Sypha, deeper into the room. He wrapped one hand over the handle, grasping the chain a few feet from the end with his other hand and swinging the dangerous looking thing in a few small circles, testing the weapon’s weight and movement. The total chain was nearly as long as his leather bullwhip, but he only used the last two or three feet in the tight quarters. Adrian nearly flinched when Trevor took a few experimental shots at some old junk in the corner, knocking his targets with the weight of the bladed metal flail portion on the end of the chain. Satisfied, he coiled the chain up and looked from Sypha to Adrian. “This weapon has been in my family for generations. Its the most powerful weapon we have against vampires. I thought it had been lost during the excommunication. I never expected to find it down here.”

Sypha looked on the item with renewed appreciation, glancing at Adrian out of the corner of her eye. “You look like you’re going to be sick,” she pointed out.

Adrian stood up straighter, trying not to look so obviously disturbed. “I’m fine,” he said tersely, though he knew it was unconvincing.

Trevor eyed him curiously. “Its consecrated silver, and also has a very strong anti-vampire effect. You can sense it?”

Adrian nodded slowly, glancing back to the shadowed room. “There are other items in there,” he said, stepping back again, out of the way.

Sypha looked like she wanted to run into the little closet to see, but she stepped back and let Trevor go instead. “This is all your stuff Trevor, these are your family’s artifacts. Your blood unlocked the door. You go.”

Trevor attached the Morning Star at his waist and stepped back into the closet, rummaging around for a moment. He came out with a book and a smaller box made of wood. He handed the book to Sypha. She brought it closer to the lantern and Adrian eyed it warily. It was without a doubt the source of the horrible sensation of dread that had been coming from the closet. If he were in his wolf form his hackles would be all the way up. As it was he fought the urge to hiss and simply backed a little further away from the offensive thing, not even wanting to look at it. The book was large, the cover made of a strange greyish leathery material. It stunk. The face of the book was inlaid with a number of gleaming white shards arranged in some kind of image. Sypha ran her hand over the grotesque thing with curiosity, not yet realizing what it was made of.

“This is strange,” she said, her brow creasing as she studied it, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth.

Trevor looked from the book to Adrian and back again, touching the white fragments that were stitched onto the cover with… hair. “Oh fucking gross,” he said finally, realizing what it was.

“What?” Sypha asked.

“Its made of vampire flesh,” Adrian supplied, remembering several books in his father’s libraries which were bound in human skin. He hadn’t liked those either. “And teeth. And hair.”

Sypha made a disgusted expression and nearly dropped the book, but she managed to hold onto it, running her hand along the cover, over the numerous long white fangs which were sewn into it. She opened the cover, carefully turning through the pages, quickly absorbed by whatever was written on them.

“What does it say?” Trevor asked her, peering over her shoulder.

“Its…” Sypha trailed her finger running along the script of one page. “This may be very useful,” she said finally, looking up from the book. “Adrian does this image look familiar?” she asked, pointing at something on one of the pages.

Adrian gulped, not wanting to seem afraid, but truly not wanting to go anywhere near the book. He inched marginally closer, trying to see what she was indicating from across the room. Trevor eyed him but didn’t say anything. He took another step, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Sypha was pointing to a diagram but the image was extremely detailed and he couldn’t specifically tell what it was, though it was certainly part of the castle. He forced himself to go a little closer.

His ears began to ring, his teeth aching with shooting nerve pain going all the way into his sinuses. The ringing intensified as he got closer to the book until it was all he could hear. He hesitated on the spot, fighting a visceral reaction to run in the other direction as fast as he could. Sypha didn’t seem to realize – how could she? She stood up with the book and moved closer to him. The ringing grew so loud he put his hands over his ears to try and stop it but it was coming from inside his head, pressing on his skull. His teeth were twinging with exquisite pain and his vision began going fuzzy at the edges.

“Hey Sypha hold on. Something’s wrong,” he heard Trevor say from far away. He was aware of the hunter stepping towards him, moving between he and Sypha, and of Sypha trying to go around him with a concerned look on her face.

He tried to take a step backwards and everything tilted and wavered, the ringing so loud it was as if he could _see_ it. The world went painfully white, his limbs flailing at the last second as he tried to regain his balance, but he couldn’t tell which direction was up anymore. He crumpled, unable to stand under the overwhelming _pressure_ that felt like it was crushing his head. The last thing he felt was his head cracking on the stone floor, then everything went mercifully black.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Treffy finally got the Morning Star! And Adrian got... the heebie jeebies! Sorry to end it on a bit of a cliffie, but its not a terrible one. Obviously that book is bad news for vampires.
> 
> And more importantly (depending on your priorities) nobody resolved anything from the last chapter! Complete and total refusal to talk about it from both our boys. Such maturity. I can't say I'm impressed by either of them. Poor Sypha, always having to be the adult. (By the way she's younger than both of them, only 19 because I said so but forgot to mention until now)
> 
> In other news, some shit went down in Braila and Dracula's generals all ended up on pikes.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I am eager to hear what you thought. More coming soon.


	19. Part Nineteen

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Nineteen**

Adrian came to with a groan. He was confused for a moment, but remembered quickly what had happened. Thankfully the horrible sensation was gone. He ran his fingers over his face, his teeth, finding that he was unharmed. Opening his eyes he blinked, adjusting to the light of the sputtering lantern and looking around the room. He was still in the spot he’d fallen but someone had adjusted him so he was laying down on his back rather than in a heap. Sypha was on the floor beside him, her expression laced with worry. He looked at her quietly for a moment then sat up.

“Are you okay?” she laid a hand on his shoulder, studying him. He gently pushed her off and nodded, taking stock of himself.

“That book,” he said, looking around warily.

“Trev took it to another room. Its has a powerful spell on it to keep vampires from touching it. You passed out once it got close to you.”

Adrian shuddered at the thought of the horrid thing and met Sypha’s eyes. “Is there anything useful in it?”

She smiled a the mention of its contents. “Oh yes. It contains very specific information about the castle, as well as several spells I haven’t seen before. Holy magic that harms vampires. I might be able to learn some of the spells if I have a chance to practice. Holy magic is not my strong point. Speakers don’t exactly have a close relationship with God, but I may still be able to learn the spells. I won’t know until I try. I didn’t get a chance to look at any of it closely yet, but I think there is some other good stuff in there. It was really lucky that Trevor accidentally knocked that shelf over.”

“Lucky,” Adrian muttered, getting to his feet. There was no lingering damage; as soon as he was away from the spelled tome the awful ringing pressure in his head had disappeared.

Trevor came back into the room empty handed wearing only his breeches. “I stuck it out of the way for now,” he said of the book. He still had the Morning Star at his hip. While it was not pleasant to be near, it didn’t have the awful spell the book had on it. As long as he didn’t touch it there wouldn’t be an issue. Trevor looked him over. “You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Adrian said quickly, squaring his shoulders and turning his attention back to the mirror. “We need to finish this and get some rest.”

Sypha looked between them with a frown. The tension was palpable. Neither man would look at the other for more than a moment without glaring or turning away. “I need to have a look at that book and see what might be useful in it. If we plan to take it with us I will need a way to carry it without making Adrian sick from the spell. We also need to find the castle. Why don’t you two work on that and afterwards we will get some rest.” Sypha worded it as a suggestion, but it was clear that she expected them to make nice with one another.

They were both stone silent as Sypha gave each of them a borderline threatening look and left the room. Adrian moved to the mirror. Trevor was eyeing him through its reflection but as soon as he saw Adrian watching him he set his jaw stoically and contemplated the nearby shelves.

“Just find the castle,” Trevor said with irritation, his fingers playing along the stock and over the pommel of his new weapon.

Adrian’s shoulders stiffened. There would be no forthcoming apology yet. He grunted a response and put his hands over the frame of the mirror. He stared into his reflection, the gold of his eyes staring back at him and Trevor’s impatient figure looming in the background, arms now crossed over his bare chest.

_Show me where the castle is._

Adrian tried to clear his mind so he could focus. Slowly his reflection muddied and disappeared, replaced with a bird’s eye view of a familiar hulking structure. The image sharpened and hung before them, the castle a dark blemish set in a wide expanse of forest. It jutted up far beyond the tops of the tallest trees. The mountains were behind it, snow not quite reaching the valley where it was nestled. They were the same mountains he could see in the distance from the Estate but he didn’t know the location specifically. It was reasonably close. This may be their chance to get to it, if only they could manage to gain the castle before it moved once more. He pushed the mirror to give him a wider view, adjusting the angle and looking around for any landmarks. There was a small village several miles away. He panned the mirror over it, looking for something he might recognize.

“I know where it is,” Trevor said definitively from behind him, striding forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with Adrian. “That’s the village Sypha and I went to.”

Adrian released the mirror and looked at Trevor. “You said it took you six days to walk here from there. It will be gone by the time we can reach it.”

Trevor nodded. “Probably. But its a close as we’re going to get. Better than it being in Braila.

Adrian regarded the hunter for a long moment, searching his face. He wanted to say something, but he sensed that anything he said would just become an argument. He turned back to the distance mirror, replacing his gloved hands on its frame and directing it to show him the castle’s interior.

This time the mirror responded more quickly. He knew the castle well and already had an idea of where inside he wanted to see. First he looked into the main entrance area, a massive open hall that was the first thing one saw when entering through the huge front doors. He expected the long expanse of red carpet with gold details which split and wound up each side of twin curved staircases then rejoined at a landing on the next floor. He recognized the statuary along the sides of the room, decorations and finery meant to both flaunt and intimidate, depending on who walked through the doors. He felt a little stitch in his chest at the hall – it had always been the first thing he would see when returning home – but there were some stark differences. The entire room was a bloody disaster. Corpses were bloated and rotting in every direction. In some places they were stacked two or three high. There had been a massive battle here. Most of them wore the same colours as the bodies in Braila had: black and red for his father’s vampire army, and steel for the Styrian vampires. There were others mixed in – a fair number of them night creatures – but primarily it was just and endless sea of corpses.

“Jesus Christ,” Trevor said from beside him, taking in the carnage.

Adrian didn’t answer him. He just guided the mirror’s eye along the familiar halls, moving quickly though different areas. Most of the battle had been right in the main entrance. There was evidence of fighting elsewhere; destruction and explosions had left various rooms destroyed while others were untouched. The castle itself was simply so large that much of it had escaped ruin. Adrian quickly passed over the intact sections, only pausing to examine anything which was littered with bodies or seemed out of place. The entire building was devoid of the usual servants, night creatures and guards. Everyone was dead. It seemed the only thing even remotely alive in the castle was Dracula himself. His entire army appeared to have been slaughtered. Somehow that didn’t bring Adrian much comfort. He was willing to wager that his father alone could wreak at least as much if not more havoc than the whole of his army combined given suitable provocation.

“Is Dracula even there, or is it abandoned?” Trevor said from beside him. He refocused, instructing the mirror to show him his father. It quickly brought up a clear image of the man, long cape sweeping around him as he shifted. He was in one of the high towers. It was outfitted differently than Adrian remembered. He frowned at the image.

The sun was rising, pouring in through the large windows on three sides of the circular room. Adrian remembered it well because it had offered an incredible view of the lands surrounding the castle. He’d spent time there during long summer days of his youth looking out over fields or forests depending on where the building was at any given moment. Now the room looked more like a cross between an alchemy lab and a mortuary. The center was dominated by a solid looking stone autopsy table with drainage troughs running off the sides and bottom. Streaming sunlight put an oddly cheerful touch on an otherwise grim scene. His father remained carefully out of the light, speaking to someone. Adrian adjusted the view once more to reveal… a human?

“Who is that?”

“I have no idea,” Adrian said, studying the man’s face. He had nearly shoulder length silver hair and was wearing a miserable expression, holding a strange looking weapon. He wore good clean clothes and the same black and gold armor that the man Dracula had buried had worn. Beside him was a pile of human corpses, one of which lay on the massive stone table. As the pair watched, he stood over the table and struck it with his weapon, a hammer. Blue light erupted from the table, the hammer, the man and the corpse, and when it settled they watched the body twist and grow, morphing into a wicked looking night creature with blue fangs and eyes. It leaped off the table and stretched to its full height; a little taller than Dracula. It unfolded long leathery wings, ducking out of the sunlight and lashing out violently with sharp claws and a long tail. The man strode fearlessly forward and raised a hand to its cheek, peering into its face. A long moment passed wherein they stared at one another, the creature motionless. When the man lowered his hand the creature was still and calm. It eyed him him quietly before stepping away, inclining its head to Dracula and disappearing from the room.

“Oh good,” Trevor said flatly. “The one fucking thing alive in that castle is the guy who can turn corpses into monsters.”

Adrian watched for a moment longer, perplexed. The man was conversing with his father comfortably, neither cowering nor flinching away. He looked angry and unhappy, but not frightened. Perhaps even more remarkable was that Dracula left him a tray with food and even a glass of wine, setting it on a desk on the back wall of the room. He then gestured to the pile of bodies and the man said something in protest, hands clenched into fists as he argued with the Lord of Darkness. Dracula drew closer to the silver-haired man and clamped a large clawed hand on his shoulder. The human shrank visibly beneath the touch, reluctantly meeting Dracula’s eyes. As he stared into them his body slackened, his jaw relaxing and his arms hanging limply at his sides. He was held in place for an entire minute, unblinking, rapt. Dracula was speaking to him. He nodded numbly at whatever was being said and Dracula released his shoulder and disappeared in a column of fire. He was left standing with a dazed, glassy expression.

“Did he just-” Trevor pointed at the image in the mirror.

“Yes. Father is very good at manipulating people, but he can force them against their will if they aren’t persuaded to obey him by other means. Most vampires can do it.”

Trevor made a disgusted noise and muttered something unintelligible.

Adrian held the mirror’s focus on the strange man for awhile longer. It took a few moments for him to come back to himself. He rubbed his face and blinked hard, appearing confused, as if he’d just woken from a particularly convincing dream.A tall, muscular night creature moved at the man’s direction to gather up a new body from the waist-high pile and lay it on the table. The blue-eyed man looked it over, running his hands along the body in an unexpectedly gentle manner. He rested his palm over the dead man’s forehead, his face somber. Out of the corner of his eye Adrian saw that Trevor was staring with sickened fascination. They both watched the necromancer press one hand into a deep wound in the corpse’s gut, sinking in past the wrist, his eyes closed in concentration. Dark fluid welled up around his arm and the body shifted where his hand was moving around inside of it. He withdrew and washed his hands at a sink in the corner. He dried them and returned to the body. Raising the hammer high he let it strike in a repeat of the process from before, resulting in another night creature. After calming this one with a hand on its cheek his shoulders wilted and he leaned over the autopsy table as though wearied. He washed his hands again – much more thoroughly this time – then gathered the plate of food Dracula had left and moved as far from the pile of corpses as he could get, all the way to the opposite side of the room. There was a chair there and a cot. He sat in the chair, sunshine gleaming off of his silvery hair. He closed his eyes, apparently enjoying the warm wash of light on his skin. Then he began to eat his meal. Adrian let the mirror go, the scene fading and his own face staring back at him again.

He turned away from the mirror and finally met Trevor face to face, studying him quietly. The hunter had a strong stomach – he’d seen plenty of things die in his life – but apparently watching them come back to life was enough to sway him. He looked a little sick, though he was trying to play it off as stolidity. Adrian could sympathize; just the thought of what all those corpses must smell like was disgusting, never mind putting a hand _inside_ one. He certainly didn’t envy the forge master his duties. How the man could stand to eat after something like that was beyond him. Not that it appeared he had much choice. His father was clearly forcing him to comply. The effects of repeated compulsion were taxing on both parties. If the person was especially resistant the process would have to be repeated over and over to remain effective, and the ability required considerable resources to remain effective for more than a few minutes. Clearly Dracula had no remaining allies or he wouldn’t be wasting his energy on a single human, no matter how useful his skills.

“It looks like we got lucky,” Trevor said, shifting his eyes away from Adrian’s. “Those things are much easier to kill than full vampires. If he has no troops then we can pretty much walk right in the front door and face him directly. Even if he makes new vampires they won’t be trained in combat. The young ones are so distracted by blood they’re useless as soldiers.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed but there are only three of us,” Adrian answered cynically even though he knew Trevor was right. “We aren’t an army. We still have to face him and win.”

Trevor sighed. “I _know_ that, but at least we won’t have our attention divided. We can focus on finding him and defeating him.”

Adrian didn’t answer. He opted to glower silently at the cracked glass of the mirror, considering what it had showed them. He could feel Trevor’s watching him. He glanced over and met the ice blue stare briefly before sticking his nose in the air and striding past Trevor towards the doorway. A hand caught his wrist before he could make an exit, tugging him gently back. Adrian allowed himself to be pulled to face Trevor, though he made sure to keep his frown firmly in place.

“Can we talk?” he began, searching Adrian’s face for some sign that he was willing to discuss what had happened earlier. “We can’t ignore each other forever. Trust me, I’m the last one who wants to have a serious adult conversation about anything but we need to clear the air.”

He wanted to, really, he did. But it was extremely late, after dawn already and he was tired. It felt like the day had been stretched out into an entire week for all that had transpired. Waking in the woods just after sunrise seemed like ancient history. They’d moved inside and gone back to sleep until well after noon and Adrian had been plagued by nightmares of drowning in blood and his father murdering him. Then he’d sparred with Trevor and they’d nearly… something. He wasn’t sure what but Trevor had been ready to pounce on him. After lunch he’d had a long and sensitive discussion with Sypha which had stirred up a whole slew of memories that he’d not thought of in years. He’d run as a wolf and they’d shared a huge meal around the fire, then spent time talking together afterwards, which had eventually led them to the unpleasant discussion of Adrian’s dietary proclivities and the resulting argument. As if that weren’t enough excitement for one day he’d then consulted the mirror not once but _three_ times, each instance revealing new information to give them a clearer idea of what had been happening in the real world while they’d been tucked away in the Belmont Hold. Trevor had discovered his family’s most precious tools to slaughter vampires, and he’d been knocked unconscious by a fucking _book_. It was enough for one day and even though he didn’t need a great deal of rest his mind was far too full and he was more than ready for sleep.

Adrian shook his head at Trevor, carefully extracting his wrist from the man’s hand. “Its after dawn. I’m tired. We have several days of travel ahead of us to discuss things, but right now I want to sleep. Let’s find Sypha.”

He left the room with Trevor trailing behind him and padded along the hall to where Sypha had taken the vampire skin book. He cautiously rounded the corner, immediately feeling dread and discomfort rising as he came into range of the powerful spell. He was greeted by a heartwarming scene. Sypha had the book open and she had fallen asleep on it, her face serene and peaceful in the light of the single lantern she’d been reading by. Her mouth was slack over the page, a bit of drool having leaked out of the corner. Adrian couldn’t help but smile at her. Trevor dutifully strode past him and carefully removed the tome from beneath her face. He closed it and set it far enough out of the way that Adrian could approach Sypha and scoop up her sleeping form in his arms. She stirred but didn’t wake, her head lolling against his shoulder. Trevor gave him a knowing look – no matter how much was unresolved between them they’d both do anything for Sypha. Adrian carried Sypha from the room, levitating a few inches from the ground to ensure he didn’t jostle her as he took her down several flights of stairs and deposited her on the cots. She moaned something in her sleep and grabbed the lapel of his coat tightly in her fist. Trevor’s fingers were there to gently pry her hand from the garment. Their eyes met and Trevor held his attention for several long seconds, hand was still on his lapel. Adrian shifted out from under the touch and Trevor climbed into the bed on one side of the sleeping mage, pulling a blanket over them both then wrapping her in his arms.

Adrian stooped to pick up the empty wine bottle from earlier, setting it atop the desk so it wouldn’t get knocked over. With his back to Trevor and Sypha he fingered the smooth dark glass, considering. He then pinched out the lantern between his fingertips, plunging the room into darkness. Finally he removed his coat and boots then climbed in on Sypha’s other side, curling up and facing away from the two humans. He didn’t share their blanket.

He was mentally exhausted, yet sleep was a long time coming. Trevor’s breathing deepened into sleep after only a few minutes, and Sypha was snoring lightly. He could feel their heat at his back. He laid awake in the dark just staring at the wall. He didn’t let himself think on any one thing, instead his mind drifted through the events of the day in a mash of scenes. The discussion about drinking Sypha’s blood was front and center. He replayed the things he’d said several times before eventually falling into a fitful, restless sleep.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian got very little actual rest. He woke more than once from nightmares with the sense that a great deal of time had passed, but in reality it had only been an hour or two at most. Three times he woke rigid and confused, soaked in sweat and ready to bolt from the cot.

The first nightmare was a disturbing rendition of the events which transpired in the cage, except Sypha and Trevor never came back. Adrian remained trapped for centuries, re-living the dehumanizing experience of losing himself to thirst and watching his body shrivel to a corpse-like state. He was finally wakened by a group of thrill-seekers who discovered the Hold through the natural caves. Somehow they freed him from the spelled prison, at which point he was driven to mindlessly slaughter them all and drain them dry. He panicked at the realization that he had harmed these strangers, unable to control himself after several hundred years of starvation. In his panic he fled. When he emerged from the Hold the world had changed so much he barely recognized it. Everything he’d once known was long gone, lost to the ages and replaced by massive cities and technology he didn’t understand. Trevor and Sypha were over four hundred years dead and the sorrow and horror that filled him left him unable to cope. He took the shape of the wolf and retreated into the forest, disconnecting from all civilization and living out his days in voiceless solitude. The sense of time passing in the dream was so realistic that he felt as though half a millennia had really passed.

He woke disoriented, his body tense. He expected to feel pine needles under his paws and was confused by the lumpy cot beneath him instead. He lay on his back in the darkness listening with intense relief to the sounds of Trevor and Sypha asleep beside him as the dream slowly faded. His hands wandered over them for reassurance that they were in fact real. He gripped Sypha’s limp fingers in his own trembling hand and fought back the desire to weep.

Convinced the nightmare had been only that he attempted to go back to sleep.

The second dream was a different type of terrifying. Adrian bit Sypha and somehow lost control of himself, drinking and drinking until she was bloodless and limp. He killed her. Her drained, lifeless corpse sagged in his arms, her head tipped back to expose a throat ravaged by his fangs. He stared at the body in his arms in horror and felt searing pain in his back. A sword plunged into him from behind and emerged from the front of his chest with a wet tearing and far too much blood. Trevor killed him in this nightmare. He felt the hunter’s boot on his back, forcing his body off of the sword. He fell face forward onto Sypha’s corpse and snapped awake in the cot. He was panting hard this time and his cheeks were wet with his tears. His shirt was soaked through with sweat and his hair was plastered to his face.

He got up and wandered around the room for a few minutes to try and clear his head to no avail. He almost didn’t want to try and sleep again, but he had nothing else to do and he _was_ tired, despite his inability to get any rest.

He eventually found his way back to sleep. He did manage for an hour or so, but was pulled into another realistic and disturbing dream. They had defeated Dracula in a glorious battle. The world was saved, they were heroes. Adrian took possession of the castle, inviting Trevor and Sypha to live with him there. They passed on his offer, saying that they wanted instead to discover the world together on new adventures. They left him only a few days after the battle, when he was still struggling to manage the sorrow of necessary patricide. They disappeared for over a year, in which time Adrian grew distant and listless, floating around the castle grounds like a specter. He was overjoyed when they finally returned, but they brought news that hurt terribly. They were deeply in love with one another. They’d realized there was no place for him in their relationship – their tryst had been only a matter of convenience and curiosity. They moved away together. At first they visited the castle a few times but as the years passed they came less and finally stopped altogether. One day Adrian went to find them. He visited their home – a newly built manor on the old Belmont Estate lands, a beautiful construction that Trevor and Sypha had made together. Several children ran and played on the grounds, but when he approached he was treated like a threat. An older version of Trevor took him to a private study and explained to him (with one hand resting on the Morning Star) that he needed to move on – they couldn’t raise a family with a vampire looming over them, and they would appreciate if he left them alone and never bothered them again. Adrian was sent away and told never to come back. He retreated to his empty castle and bolted the doors, stunned and crushed by the realization that they had pushed him out of their lives so easily. He despaired. He sank into an all-encompassing depression, the years creeping by pointlessly as he sat on the throne and withered away, his heart broken.

The dream faded, consciousness returning to him slowly. He was in the dark. His cheeks were wet, and his companions were still asleep beside him. He shook the disturbing nightmare from his mind and got up, unwilling to try to find sleep when it was obviously not going to come. He pulled his coat on and walked through the rows and rows of books until he found a corner to sink into, tucking his knees up against his chest and resting his forehead on them. He closed his eyes and felt the tears come. He didn’t even know why he was crying, specifically. He was simply overwhelmed by everything. The cage and all of its horrific tortures. His body disfigured by numerous scars. The awful discussion about drinking human blood. The image of his childhood home stacked with bodies, empty of nearly all life. His father. His mother. The nightmares that had felt real.

Adrian cried for a long time, releasing pent-up sadness and anxiety that he’d been unable to deal with any other way. He cried until his shoulders sagged and his back ached from the sobs he swallowed lest the noise wake his companions. Finally he had no tears left and he fell asleep curled up against the wall. He remained there for several hours, motionless. This time no dreams plagued him.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian came awake with a groan of discomfort. It had not been a restful sleep. He was stiff all over, still huddled against the wall he’d fallen asleep leaning on. He unfolded himself and pins and needles raced through his legs as circulation returned. He got to his feet and listened for Sypha and Trevor. They were a few floors above him in the room with the mirror.

He made his way to the room, wiping crust from his eyes and dragging his fingers through his tangled hair. He paused at the doorway when the unwelcome sensation of dread and the ringing beginning in his ears announced the presence of the Belmont vampire book. He made a noise of irritation and hung outside the doorway. Trevor and Sypha looked at him but they were in the middle of something and were apparently concentrating.

Trevor was holding the frame of the distance mirror in his hands. Adrian could see the image on it and was surprised to discover it showed the alchemical engine room of the castle. Sypha had the book spread open on the floor in front of her. She had one finger over some text and her other hand was poised to perform magic. Powerful magic. The air tingled with it, Adrian’s hair puffed up from static, as did Trevor’s. Sypha’s seemed to sway in an unseen wind. She chanted in a language Adrian had never heard, repeating the incantation several times, each time raising more and more energy until Trevor’s hair was completely standing on end in a halo around his head and the room crackled. She spoke the incantation once more and finally adjusted her hands, directing the spell at the image in the mirror. Blue lightening streaked from her hand, around the frame of the mirror and into the castle shown in the glass. It focused on the engine itself; a many-faceted orb that Adrian had seen his father use to transport the castle from place to place. Sypha grit her teeth and closed her fist and Adrian was stunned to see the most important component of the castle’s engine implode as her fingers closed into a fist. It released a flare of magical and electrical energy, a backlash which caused the surface of the mirror to crack and then shatter into a thousand tiny shards. Trevor jumped back just in time to avoid being peppered with pointy bits of glass. Sypha was caught by a few of them, a little slice on her cheek and a few on her arms. She wilted, bracing herself on both palms and panting with exertion.

“You… broke it.” Adrian said intelligently, staring at the now useless frame of the mirror with his mouth hanging open in awe.

“Adrian, there you are, we were looking for you,” Sypha said once she’d caught her breath. He could see the way her eyes glittered with pride and exhilaration at what she’d just done. As an afterthought she snapped the book shut and slipped it into a cloth bag. As soon as the book was in the bag the sensation of his skin crawling and his teeth aching stopped abruptly. He blinked in surprise, tentatively stepping closer.

“It works?” Sypha asked him. “You can get near the book?”

He nodded. She grinned. “Perfect. I spelled that bag to block magic. As long as the book is in there it shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

“That’s very clever Sypha,” he said to her, impressed by her creativity.

Trevor shook glass shards out of his clothes and gave Sypha a hand up. When she rose a rain of shards fell around her, tinkling on the floor at her feet.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked, moving into the room and resting on hand on her shoulder, the other tipping her chin up towards him, examining her cheek. His nostrils flared at the scent of her blood. He remembered one of his nightmares and abruptly released her.

“I’m fine, its only a tiny cut,” she said as she wiped the little slice with her finger. “That book is amazing. Its definitely coming with us. Now that I’ve looked closer it seems to be all about Dracula and his castle. There are so many diagrams, spells and even weapon enchantments. A lot of it is… well its pretty questionable, to be honest. Sacrifices, dark magic, that sort of thing. It explains how the enchantment on the Morning Star whip was performed. It uh… well I’m not going to say that the Belmonts _weren’t_ black magicians,” she glanced at Trevor when she said that and he scowled at the mention of Belmonts and black magic together.

Sypha was doing a terrible job of hiding just how excited she was about the book. Her eyes were bright, almost scary. “This thing could keep me busy for months. I’ve only had it one night and I already found a way to disable the castle’s teleportation. Worked perfectly, as you saw. Well, except for the backlash that broke the mirror. The engine was really powerful, it released a lot of magic when I crushed it and I wasn’t prepared to direct all the extra power. When we get on the road I’d like to practice some of the more approachable spells. Maybe we’ll run into some night creatures to try them on.”

Trevor clapped his hands together, sudden;y all business. “Well, I guess we can hit the road, then. The castle won’t be moving any time soon and Dracula’s army is fucked. We aren’t going to get a better chance than this; let’s get going,” He didn’t waste any time, although his eyes lingered on Adrian for a long moment, taking in his disheveled, exhausted appearance. He gathered up anything he needed to take with him, mostly weapons. He was already wearing his boots, bracers, cape and the rest of his gear, both whips and his sword at his belt and a small pack of supplies ready to go. Sypha was similarly prepared. She seemed equally as eager to get on the road.

Adrian didn’t have much with him save his pack and his sword, so he offered to carry some of the heavier supplies they needed to bring with them.

It wasn’t long before they made one last sweep of the Hold and finally left it behind. When the stone door sealed it shut Adrian let out a sigh of relief. They rekindled the fire from the night before and finished off the last of the deer meat before they began walking. The afternoon was grey and cool, an ominous bank of low-hanging clouds threatening to dump more rain on them and ensure their travels would be as unpleasant as possible. So far it had held off. All three of them sincerely hoped it continued to do so.

Both Trevor and Sypha seemed to sense that Adrian was not himself. He was even quieter than usual, unwilling to make conversation for its own sake. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He didn’t want to talk about his nightmares, but they had disturbed him deeply enough that he didn’t want to let Trevor and Sypha too far out of his sight either. He stayed several paces behind of them as they picked their way along the trail which led from the Belmont lands to the next village over. The trail was wide enough that the cart and horses would have managed it easily, despite it being overgrown and occasionally blocked by a fallen tree. Adrian began to wonder after the first few hours if it wouldn’t have been easier if he’d simply pulled the cart himself. At least then they’d have some shelter from the rain which was definitely going to come down soon.

Without shelter or much food they had to be careful of how deeply they exerted themselves. Well, the humans did, anyhow. He could catch them as much meat as they could eat, but their bodies needed other things to thrive and there wasn’t a great deal to forage by the edge of the road. A patch of red currant was the highlight of the afternoon, both Trevor and Sypha stuffing as many as they could down their gullets and picking more to take with them. Their lips and fingers were stained red and Sypha was in good spirits, energized by the sweet snack and happy to be on the move. Trevor was listening to her with half an ear, keeping watch on the forest around them and pointing out things he recognized from time to time. Adrian dragged behind, brooding and sulking and generally being a complete wet blanket.

They stopped to find somewhere to rest just before it got dark. Adrian stepped off the trail and scouted nearby for somewhere suitable to take shelter. He managed to uncover a shallow cave. Really it was more of an outcropping of rocks that created a small protected area beneath it, but it was the only thing around that was even remotely capable of keeping the rain off. They left the path and tried to collect some firewood along the way as they trudged through the mosquito-ridden brush towards the little alcove. The first raindrops began to fall as it came into sight, a dark place nestled between the thick trees.

They made a small fire at the edge of the overhang and Trevor and Sypha gathered some pine boughs to make a little nest out of so they weren’t right on the cold ground. They laid out one of their wool blankets and sank down beside one another. Nobody was tired, but the weather forced them to take shelter whether they were ready to or not. The sound of drumming rain filled the space, which was really only large enough for two. Adrian resigned himself to being a bit waterlogged, setting down on Sypha’s side barely beneath the protection of the ledge. He could hear their stomachs complaining as Trevor poked at the fire with a stick. It was small, just enough to give them a little light and warmth. Not enough to attract attention, protected on all sides by the bush as they were.

“You’re hungry,” Adrian commented when Sypha’s stomach protested for the third time in half an hour.

“I’m alright,” she said, waving his worry aside.

“Its a terrible night to hunt,” Trevor grumbled, gesturing to the rain. “We should have stayed at the Hold. We only got about seven hours travel in today anyway and now we’re going to freeze our asses off.”

Adrian rummaged through his pack. He pulled out a few pieces of dried bear meat and handed them to Trevor and Sypha. “I can’t help the rain but at least this is more filling than berries.”

“Thanks,” Sypha said, taking hers in hand and gnawing slowly.

Adrian nodded and leaned his head back, resting it against the rocks behind him. How could he possibly explain that he’d rather be out here half soaked and crammed into a shitty little excuse for a cave than spend another minute in the Belmont Hold? He didn’t love the rain, but the cold didn’t bother him and he was just so happy to be out of there that he wasn’t about to complain. Sypha’s hand crept into his lap, searching for his. He opened one eye and turned it on her before gripping her warm fingers in his own.

“Adrian you’re freezing,” she said when their skin touched.

“Sorry,” he said softly, letting her hand go. He inched a bit further from her so his coldness wouldn’t leech away her heat. She needed to keep her heat. He glanced at Trevor, who met his eyes in the dark and wrapped his cloak around Sypha. She gratefully snuggled into it.

“Better?” Trevor asked her.

“Yeah,” she answered him.

“Good.” he said definitively and kissed her temple for good measure.

Silence settled over them again, awkward and heavy in the tiny shelter. Adrian’s mood hadn’t improved over the course of the day and he was staring off into the trees, lost in thought.

“This is going to be a long night,” Trevor said after another bought of quietly sitting around, listening to the rain.

It was.

It rained most of the night. Eventually Adrian got tired of the way he was half in and half out of the cave so he changed to his wolf form and curled up outside on the ground. His thick fur protected him from the rain at first, but after a few hours it began to soak through.

At least Trevor and Sypha stayed dry and reasonably warm, and eventually they fell asleep huddled against one another. Adrian closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him. The rain slowed around midnight and stopped completely a few hours after that, giving way to the sounds of owls calling to one another nearby. As soon as the first streaks of light came into the sky the trio gathered up their packs and set off, slogging tiredly though the wet forest back to the path.

They were determined to make some headway before they stopped again and they walked steadily through the damp morning until the sun rose high in the sky, finally drying everything up and making Adrian squint uncomfortably at the brightness. He could feel his cheeks singeing after awhile and he stepped off the path, traveling instead beside it beneath the cover of the trees. They broke for rest and food just before midday and Adrian crankily huddled himself under two thick pines, closing his eyes to the sunlight and leaning back against a rock.

Trevor and Sypha found a nearby stream to wash up in. Trevor expertly speared a couple of fish with a sharpened stick and gloated about his superior survival skills when they returned. They started a fire and waited for it to get hot enough to cook over. Sypha tended the fire and Trevor sank down beside Adrian, who cracked an eye at him then closed it again. His jaw tightened slightly when he felt the hunter’s hand on his knee.

“Adrian.”

He frowned with his eyes closed, drawing himself more tightly inward.

He heard Sypha get up and say something about looking for some wild edibles and to keep an eye on the fish. She wandered off into the bush and Adrian opened his eyes, watching the place where Sypha had disappeared from view.

“She is terrible at foraging,” he said under his breath. He picked a stick out of his hair and scowled at the sticky sap left behind. Great. Now he’d have mats.

Trevor snorted beside him. “That she is, but I asked her to give us a few minutes. I’m reasonably confident she won’t try to eat anything she finds without running it by us first.”

Adrian didn’t answer, but he was very much aware of Trevor’s hand on his leg. He closed his eyes again.

“I know you’re in a shit mood, but I don’t think we should wait much longer to talk,” Trevor said beside him, sounding surprisingly serious.

Adrian ignored him, wishing he would just go away. He didn’t feel like talking. He’d decided sulking was far more satisfying.

“Would you at least look at me?”

Adrian resigned himself to opening his eyes and turning them on the man beside him. Trevor met his gaze and Adrian’s heart hurt at the intensity of his expression.

“We might be dead by this time next week and I’d fucking hate myself forever if I kicked the bucket before I had a chance to make this right.”

Adrian’s brows lifted a little at that but he supposed it was true – they were on the final leg of their journey, after all. They very well could be dead in a few days. “Fine. I wouldn’t want you to die without a clear conscience, Belmont. God forbid.”

Trevor swallowed whatever retort he’d been ready to fire back. “Come on Adrian. You’re fucking miserable. Its not only me who needs to fix this. I don’t claim to be a very smart man but I know enough to recognize that things are seriously fucked up between us right now.”

Adrian snorted at that. “I’m fine.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Sure you are. You’re just peachy. A real ray of sunshine.”

That was received with an appropriately prickly glare.

“Jesus you’re fucking impossible when you get like this. I hate talking about all this feelings shit but at least I’m trying to fucking try.”

“I’m sorry I’m making this so difficult for you,” he bit with no small measure of sarcasm.

“God damn it you stubborn asshole! Stop with the catty remarks and this mopey bullshit. What exactly are you looking for? Do you want me to drop to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? Because that’s crap. I’m not the only one who needs to put things right here. We both have a part in this.”

Adrian sniffed, picking at his glove. “I’m not apologizing to you. I didn’t do anything.”

“Neither did I! You’re all insulted and butthurt over a fucking misunderstanding. Its nobody’s fault. Its just a stupid thing that we should get over so it doesn’t wreck whatever time we have left.”

“But somehow I’m the one painted as a bloodthirsty animal. You’ve killed far more people than I have.”

Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose, perhaps considering how successful he might be if he attempted to strangle Adrian. The dhampir knew he was being childish but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He was angry. He was cranky. The sun was too bright. He wanted a nap. He wanted an apology. He wanted Trevor to understand how deeply his lack of trust cut, but he seemed capable only of making snide remarks and doing his best to derail the hunter’s attempts at reconciliation.

“Its not a competition! I’ve lived a hard fucking life. That has absolutely nothing to do with this. We need to lay the cards on the table. Simplify things. Be honest with each other. I respect you Adrian, and I kind of hoped you respect me enough to try a little harder than this.”

Adrian could hear the sincerity in Trevor’s words. He growled, uncomfortable with the way this was unfolding. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” the hunter said and pulled one of Adrian’s hands into his lap. “Look. I’m sorry things went like they did. I’m sorry I forced you into explaining yourself like that the other night. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings with the shit I said. I should have trusted you more. I’m an idiot. I know you’re more than-”

“A monster?” his tone laden with bitterness.

Trevor’s grip on his hand tightened and he struggled with what to say to that while Adrian regarded him coldly. “I never meant to make it sound like that.”

“But you did. You really believed I would treat you or Sypha the same way a vampire that was trying to kill you did. Like prey. How could you actually think that? We’ve been living side by side for months. Haven’t you learned anything about me in all that time? Have I ever done anything to make you think you weren’t safe with me?”

Trevor sighed deeply and looked down but he didn’t release Adrian’s hand. “I know you’re insulted. I know I hurt your feelings, but just for one second try to see it from my point of view. My entire life I’ve been taught that vampires go batshit crazy for blood. I’ve seen it more than once. When I got bit… that was one of the scariest things that’s ever happened to me. It hurt like hell. I’ve seen what you can do too, circumstances aside. Adrian you’re scary sometimes. You’re strong enough to pick up a giant metal cage and throw it like it weighs nothing. You can move so fast I can’t even see it. You’re fucking _immortal_. I’m not. Sypha’s not. I’m just trying to protect her, can’t you see that? I know a lot of really shitty shit has happened to you lately and you need someone on your team. Me and Syph, we are those people. We are here for you, but you can’t expect me to abandon all self-preservation and just blindly agree to things I don’t understand. I will not do that. No matter how much it upsets you I’m not sorry for questioning things. I should have trusted you sooner, though. I should have accepted what you said instead of being so stubborn about it and pushing you like I did.”

Trevor took a pause to breathe here, looking into Adrian’s face and hiding nothing. It was hard to argue with the things he said when he laid it out as he had. It was perhaps a little easier to understand it from Trevor’s vantage point now, even though it still hurt. Adrian shifted to face the other man. His cold expression softened a bit, though he was still tight all over. “I… didn’t expect… I thought you knew me better.”

The hunter’s shoulders sagged. “Adrian I don’t mean to turn it back on you, but you are not very forthcoming with details. I kind of got the idea that you didn’t want us to know too much.”

“As I said before, hunting is a private matter. It doesn’t concern you.”

“See, this is what I mean. Okay its not my business, and I never asked about it after you told me you were on the animal-only diet. I accepted that. I trusted you. I respected your privacy. But I drew my own conclusions about the details.”

Adrian sighed heavily and contemplated his gloved hands. “I- find it… uncomfortable to discuss certain things with humans.”

“Alright, fair,” Trevor said gently, “but we’re not just some random humans anymore, right? If we’re gonna do this thing – the three of us – then we need to be able to be open with each other.”

Adrian yanked his hand out of Trevor’s, making a fist. His lip curled in a snarl of frustration. “How am I supposed to explain things that you can’t understand? You already think me a monster.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Adrian. You’ve gotta stop saying that. And I know some stuff is going to be weird but all we can do is try. I knew when I signed up to be in a three way relationship with a sorceress and a dhampir that there’d be a learning curve. It would be fucked if there _wasn’t_ one. For now it would help a lot if you didn’t clam up or run away every time something is bothering you. You can talk to us. Even if you think we can't understand. We don’t always have to understand. You can still talk to us.”

Adrian growled, his frustration mounting. “I tried talking to you and it made everything worse.”

“Because you ran away! You got angry and insulted, then you said I assumed the worst of you and never bothered to look any deeper, which isn’t true. You said that your father was right about humans and that you didn’t belong with us, and some shit about Belmonts, then you ran away and never gave me a chance to respond. I know I fucked up and I should have handled that situation better. I’m sorry I hurt you. But as soon as you said your piece you disappeared. Its been almost two days and you have spent the entire time ignoring me or moping. Getting you to talk to me has been like pulling teeth. I’m no expert, but I know we can do better than this.”

Adrian shrugged, still instinctively clinging to the feeling that he was somehow separated from Trevor and Sypha, like there was a chasm between them that could not be breached. More and more he knew that was wrong. They were bridging the gap and he kept pulling further back out of fear and some misguided instinct of self-preservation. He was running away from the only people who were on his side. He was wearing his insult and anger around him like a cloak, using them to keep Trevor out, afraid that he would be hurt worse if he let down his barriers.

Trevor met Adrian’s eyes, his voice softening once more. He was really working to keep the conversation moving in the right direction, no matter how many times Adrian tried to twist it. “I know you’re upset by more than just our argument. The things you saw in the mirror the other night brought up memories of your home and your family. I know you had nightmares all through that night and you haven’t slept since. I know you’re freaked out about breaking your animal-only diet too. As uncomfortable as it was for you to talk about hunting and feeding it made everything so much clearer for me. I’m really glad you explained. Its _fucking hard_ for me to change what I believed was true for my whole life. I won’t lie and say I’m not scared about the biting, because I am. But I trust you more. I _do_ feel safe with you. Its kinda fucked actually, how relaxed you make me just by being around. How confident I am when I know you’re there.”

Adrian’s fists relaxed, his mouth opening in surprise. “ _I_ make you feel that way?” he murmured, stunned.

Trevor scratched the back of his head, smiling in embarrassment. “Yeah, you do. You make me feel all kinds of shit I don’t understand. I’m good at watching other people, but I’m bad at understanding myself. I think I know you pretty well by now. You’re really a sweet, sensitive guy who’s had garbage luck and now you’re all screwed up from losing your mom and having to kill your own dad and being trapped in a torture chamber. All I want to do is give you a hug and kill anyone who so much as looks at you wrong.”

Adrian stared at Trevor in astonishment now, a slight heat working its way onto his cheeks at being called sweet and sensitive. Trevor grabbed Adrian’s hands so he had one gloved appendage in each of his large palms. His face was pure, unadulterated honesty.

“Adrian you and Sypha are the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me crazy. Both of you. Having you in my life makes me want to be a better man. At first I just wanted to get laid, but now its different. Now I want to make you both happy no matter what happens to me. I would do crazy shit to protect either of you. I’ve never cared about anyone like that before. Its terrifying. I’m probably shit at it; I’m used to being alone, looking out for myself and assuming the worst of everyone else. But you and Syph… you’re just… better. You’re worth fighting for. So things need to be okay. I’m not going to let you curl up in a sadness ball and brood and sulk alone anymore. If we are going to die in a few days, then we’ll damn well do it together.”

Trevor stopped talking abruptly. It seemed like he might have more to say, but had only now realized all the things he’d just put to words, like he was hearing it for the first time himself. His eyes widened and he looked incredibly exposed suddenly, like someone had pantsed him in a room full of his most respected mentors and he was too shocked to react. He stared at Adrian uncertainly for a moment before he visibly relaxed, deciding that he was okay with it and that he was going to wear his words proudly, no matter how they were received. Adrian realized that his hands were all clammy – they were sticking to his gloves. He peeled his hands free from the sweaty grip and put them over Trevor’s forearms instead.

“That… was a lot,” he said with a small smile.

Trevor blushed, his chest and cheeks flushing red. He twisted free of Adrian’s hands, fidgeting with the edge of his fur cloak. “Well… I may not get another chance. Just had to say all the feelings shit while it was fresh. Don’t get used to it.”

Adrian smiled wider. It felt odd on his face at first – like he’d been sulking and upset for long enough that his mouth was resistant to the idea of smiling so easily. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Well, good.” Trevor said with some measure of finality, but immediately after he said it he was peeking at Adrian and his heart was pounding behind his ribs loud enough that it was surely audible to human ears. It was making the pulse point at his throat visibly flutter. Adrian raised a brow and Trevor leaned in, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Trevor,” Adrian said in a low voice.

“Yeah?” the hunter was all expectation and desire.

“Your fish is burning.”

“Shit!” Trevor shot up and practically trampled over Adrian to try and rescue his catch of the afternoon. He snatched the stick it was impaled on from the fire and waved it around, trying to put out the flames. He was left with a smoking, blackened mess. One of the fish fell off the stick, crumbling to dust. Trevor drooped, his bottom lip working into a pout. “My fish...”

Adrian got to his feet, feeling lighter somehow. Buoyant. His sour mood was decidedly brightened by the things Trevor had said. It may not have been an apology exactly, not specifically, but it was more honest than that. It fit better. It healed something in him that he hadn’t known was hurting. He’d been so busy being bitter and piteous that he’d failed to really consider Trevor’s point of view. There was always the urge to clamp down on the things that hurt and refuse to hear anything else, but that would only result in him being alone in the end. It was easier, but less fruitful. Its was much harder to admit to his partners when he was struggling and also recognize that this might be a challenging curve for them too. But if Trevor could be as reasonable, patient and vulnerable as he had been just now, then Adrian knew he had to try.

He squinted in the bright sun, slinking up beside Trevor and putting an arm around his shoulders. The hunter turned from his still smoldering lunch and gave Adrian an uncertain look. Adrian carefully extracted the burnt fish from his hand, tossing it into the fire. “Come on, I’ll get you some more fish.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said confidently, pulling Trevor out of the sun and into the shade of the big trees. Before going too far he leaned into the hunter, pulling Trevor’s arms around his shoulders and pressing their bodies together, sliding his hands along Trevor’s back. He put their foreheads together, taking a moment to breathe in Trevor’s scent and listen to the pounding of his heart. He hugged the hunter tightly, tight enough that he heard him wheeze a little, so he let up just a hint.

“I really needed to hear all of that,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

The stubbled face against his broke into a wide smile and Adrian smiled back, nosing his cheek and temple, planting feather kisses wherever he touched. Trevor’s arms tightened around him and pulled him into a real kiss, lips a little chapped and rough, but somehow perfect. His eyes fell shut and he melted against the hard, warm body, softening into strong arms, letting himself be pulled into the deep kiss which began with gentle pecks along his lips then became more intense, their mouths opening to one another, tasting each other’s tongues and heat. All of the things Trevor had said about wanting to protect him, to be a better man, to make him happy – it was so genuine – it was incredible to know that another person felt that way about him. Adrian didn’t often need to be protected, but knowing that the man against him cared for him that way made his heart sing. It eased his fears of being touched, it calmed the tangle of doubt that plagued him. He’d never imagined that he would find these kinds of feelings here. He was deeply moved.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he blinked in surprise as Trevor’s thumb carefully swiped at his eyes, wiping away tears he hadn’t realized were there. He pulled back, trying to turn away. Trevor cupped his face with a hand and kissed both his cheeks. “C’mon you’re alright,” he said pulling Adrian against his chest and running his hand through his hair in long strokes. Adrian tucked his face against Trevor’s neck and let the hunter hold him and pet him. It felt so good to be touched. He was so relieved. He hadn’t realized how tense and miserable he’d really been until they’d talked.

A slight throat clearing sound alerted the pair to the fact that they were no longer alone. Adrian twisted around to see Sypha standing a few paces away with a bundle of various wild things she’d collected in her arms. Before he could pull free Trevor wrapped his arms around Adrian’s waist, pulling his back firmly to his chest. He stilled, letting himself be held. He could feel Trevor’s heart thumping at his back.

“You guys talked?” Sypha asked, even though the answer was obvious. Adrian nodded and Trevor didn’t answer, he was too busy peeling Adrian’s coat off one shoulder so he could kiss his neck. Sypha smiled at that, dumping her bundle of greenery unceremoniously on the ground. She paused for a moment to laugh when Trevor got a mouthful of blonde hair instead of neck. He made some dramatic sputtering noises and carefully scooped Adrian’s hair out of the way, returning his mouth to the pale column of his throat. It was the unscarred side, his soft mane now draped over the other shoulder, covering the marked flesh nicely. It was as if Trevor knew that would put him at ease, which it did. Also, he wasn’t quite so freaked out by them seeing the marks anymore. Knowing that his two partners cared for him so much eased his self-conscious panic.

Sypha wrapped him in a hug, her arms slipping around his waist. He was sandwiched between them wonderfully, with Trevor kissing him in increasingly more demanding ways, which Sypha watched with a soft smile and a knowing gleam in her bright blue eyes. He relaxed between them, letting them touch him, letting them hold him. He let go. He couldn’t find any reason to hold onto his fears and anger anymore. It didn’t matter.

He dipped to catch Sypha’s mouth in his own, slowly working their lips together until her cheeks were flushing pink. She twisted her fingers into his hair and stood on her toes to get closer. Behind him Trevor was now nipping at the junction between his neck and shoulder, sending tingling shivers along his skin. He fastened his lips over one spot and _sucked,_ and Adrian groaned, goosebumps prickling his flesh. His knees wobbled. Trevor was holding him up now, and Sypha was stroking his chest.

They lulled Adrian between them petting his hair, kissing him all over his face and neck, and hugging him between them. His eyes had slipped shut. Trevor had abandoned his throat and found his lips. His head was turned sharply to the side so he could reach the hunter’s mouth with his own and Sypha had her hands on his upper arms, massaging his biceps and triceps. Eventually the kissing tapered off and Adrian found himself simply being squeezed between them, someone’s fingers carding through his hair, someone’s arm wrapped around his waist, a hand on his hip. His fingers were tangled together with another hand.

For a few minutes Adrian forgot all about his worries and fears. He wasn’t angry anymore. He didn’t feel bitter or disconnected or misunderstood. He felt loved. He was safe and happy and he was lucky enough to have found not one but _two_ incredible people who knew who and what he was and accepted him, peculiarities and faults notwithstanding. All he could do was smile against them, soak up their affection and bask in the warmth of their bodies. So he did.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY we are out of the Hold! It only took like.... 11 chapters? Yeesh.
> 
> And also FINALLY things are taking a more positive turn for our trio! I kind of agonized over the discussion between Adrian and Trevor for nearly two weeks. I really wanted to do it justice. I actually wrote it once in a completely different way and I scrapped it because I was not satisfied with how it went.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a comment. It would make my day. Thank you for looking.


	20. Part Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is fluff. I may have gotten carried away.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty**

Adrian caught several fat fish for their lunch while Trevor hung around beside him and made mildly snarky cracks at his technique to pacify his bruised fisherman’s ego. Sypha had surprisingly managed to forage some useful bits, although the wild parsnip she collected produced an awful burning rash where the leaves and stems touched her skin. She was fortunate to avoid injuring her palms, however she had a raw and blistered patch on one forearm which Adrian washed for her and packed with bear grease, finally making use of the lavender and mint infused substance to help with her itching and pain.

They filled their bellies with fish and a broth of boiled greens and roots that tasted like dirty weeds. After the meal they resumed their travels, trying to take advantage of the good dry weather to make as much headway as possible. As evening drew near Trevor and Sypha were visibly tiring, having been walking for nearly fourteen hours since they began so early in the morning. Adrian was also drained, running on almost no sleep in the past two days and absolutely fed up with the relentless sunlight beating down on him. They clearly needed to make camp and get some rest, but there were signs of night creature activity popping up along their path which had them all carefully vigilant. Adrian could smell them – the trail not older than a day – though he couldn’t tell how many or locate any actual tracks. As the sun sank lower it began to get much colder. The sky was clear and hard and the air was turning frigid. It was the coldest night they’d yet had on their travels. The season was waning, and he knew as they moved north it would only get colder, especially at night.

“We need to find somewhere suitable to camp, it will be cold tonight,” he said, eyeing lengthening shadows as the sun dropped lower.

Trevor nodded his assent but he was keeping his gaze vigilantly sweeping over the forest. “There used to be some houses out here; cabins, some farmers, a couple barns. Maybe we can find something,” he suggested. His knowledge of the area had proven useful a few times already when their path forked, or was blocked entirely by overgrown brush.

“I’ll take a look,” Adrian offered, leaping into the air and pushing himself above the trees so he could see in every direction. He couldn’t actually fly, rather he could levitate, but if he stayed in one spot he could rise very high, giving himself an unobstructed view of their surroundings. Towards the West the sun was still sinking, catching him right in the face and making it difficult to see. He scanned around and spotted exactly what they were looking for – a building. It appeared that they needed to continue along the present course, then take a small winding trail off to the left to reach it. It must have been a homestead, it appeared to be a main house and some smaller outbuildings, but he couldn’t see any lights or smoke or evidence of what state it might be in. He returned to his companions and explained what he saw and how to get there.

“It may still take an hour to reach, its hard to tell from above. We should hurry.”

“Its getting cold,” Sypha said, pulling her heavy robe tightly around her. Adrian could see her breath. Trevor’s too.

“Then lets get moving,” Trevor said, but he was still watching the trees. “Stay alert. Something’s out there.”

They grew quiet and serious, the only sounds the swishing of grass and their breathing. Adrian opted to hover in order to minimize unnecessary noise and have a better chance to hear his surroundings. The breeze was unfortunately going in the wrong direction. It was at their backs, blowing their scent ahead and announcing their presence downwind. They followed the trail for another twenty minutes, alert and very much aware of the last streaks of red fading from the western sky as night settled in. The moon had already risen before the sun had completely set, so they at least had some light which made it easier for Trevor and Sypha to keep their footing as darkness swallowed up everything under the trees.

It was Trevor who sensed the creatures ahead first. They had just turned onto the smaller path when he tensed and glanced at Sypha then quickly to Adrian, careful not to break his stride. Adrian silently drew his sword and set it to hovering just over his right shoulder, ready to attack. He could sense them as well, a small pack of night creatures. Their chittering calls to one another abruptly dropped off and the forest fell eerily silent – not even the insects made a sound.

Trevor naturally tended to fall into a leadership role when it came to working together to dispatch an enemy, especially if they were numerous. He had a keen sense for the organizational side of battle which was useful to keep them all from aimlessly thrashing their targets without coordination. He also had a particularly refined ability to sense vampires and night creatures. He held up six fingers, then pointed in the general direction where the enemies were, four straight ahead, and one on each side, circling around to attack from behind. He looked at Adrian and pointed to the right, then at Sypha and pointed to the left then he drew the Morning Star and darted straight ahead, taking the group in front because he needed wider range to use the weapon and the enemies to the sides were in the trees. When he moved closer to range he began to swing the flail end in small circles. It lit up with a deep orange fire as he swung it around.

They came out of the trees all at once, Six creatures like the one they had seen the human forgemaster make when looking through the mirror. Each was nearly eight feet tall, possessed of large wings, a lashing tail, and eyes which glowed an unearthly blue. Adrian wasted no time launching an attack on his opponent, sending his sword straight at the beast’s chest to impale it. His weapon was knocked to the side by the strong tail. The beast screeched and spit blue flames at him, which he narrowly dodged with a sidestep. He recalled his sword, the cold metal singing in his hand and he was flying forward, striking quickly and efficiently at his enemy. It tried to use its tail and wings to block but he managed to get around and chop the tail off, which resulted in the creature spraying a fountain of searing blue flames from its mouth in between animal screeching noises. He was forced to fall back out of the way of the fire but as soon as it passed he was back on the wounded beast, this time slashing it’s leg and hobbling it. It drew its wings around it to protect itself and Adrian simply phased out of sight and reappeared behind it, striking a killing blow which removed its head in a swift and clean motion. Its screeching was abruptly silenced. He wasted no time, quickly assessing how Trevor and Sypha were faring and deciding where he might be most helpful.

Sypha had already burnt her first opponent and impaled it with a narrow spear of ice. She was giving Trevor cover, but staying clear of the range of his weapon. The hunter looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was having a blast. He was focused, but Adrian could see the smile on his lips and it was fairly clear why – the Morning Star was decimating his enemies with unprecedented ease. As Adrian watched he noted that two of the beasts were already dead, both laying in the dirt with smoking empty spaces where their heads once were. He struck out at the third and caught it in the chest. The sharpened protrusions on the Morning Star’s flail sliced easily through the undead flesh and the burning core reacted immediately with the monster’s body, setting off an explosion that blasted a gaping hole in its chest. It dropped to the dirt and Trevor recalled the whip to his hand.

The last creature took one look at its five dead comrades and fled back the way it had come, massive wings spreading as it jumped into the air and took flight. Adrian wasn’t going to let it get away. He went after it, quickly dissolving to mist in a flash of red aura and floating upwards as fast as he could, surpassing the slower beast. When he was directly over it he resumed his usual form and plummeted down, landing squarely on its back. It jerked to the side and sprayed a wave of blue fire, but he already had his sword at its throat. He slit the beast’s neck open but it jerked before he could hit anything vital. It squawked, gurgling and twisting around. It caught his arm in its teeth, blue fangs sinking deep into his right forearm and hand. His sword fell towards the Earth like a stone as he hissed in pain. Disarmed, he swiped the creature’s face with his left hand, claws slicing through the tips of his gloves. He was hit by a mouthful of blue fire which seared through his clothing in seconds, burning the injured right arm and his shoulder. He bit back a surprised cry of pain as the heat melted through his coat and flesh. He tried to shield his face from the flames by ducking between the powerful wings, out of range of the hot spray. He spotted his opening, lunging forward with both hands and wrapping them around the beast’s neck. He sank all of his claws into its throat and ripped it apart. It tried to dislodge him but it was already too late. Its blackened blood was pouring freely from the wound, its body dropping from the sky. Adrian let go and floated in place, watching the large corpse disappear into some trees.

He lowered himself towards where Trevor and Sypha were standing between the rest of the slain night creatures. He called his blade back to its sheath, examining his wounds with a wince. He already had blisters forming beneath the burnt shoulder and arm of his coat. His blood was running down his hand, the deep gashes raking across his wrist and palm.

“Is it bad?” Trevor asked him, still casting around the nearby trees in case there were other enemies lurking.

“I think I’m alright,” Adrian said, shrugging out of his left sleeve and accepting Sypha’s help to remove what remained of the right one so he could get a look. His arm was red, angry, and sliced up pretty badly from the monster’s teeth, but it was nothing he couldn’t heal from. He examined his injuries and placed his left hand over the bleeding gashes, concentrating on directing his body to heal them. The wounds slowly knit back together and undamaged flesh was left in their wake. Intentional healing was a strange feeling, sort of itchy or prickly. He repeated the process for the burns, although they left an irritated cluster of red splotches behind. It would take a bit of time for that to go away.

“I’m always amazed when you do that,” Sypha said, running her hand over his newly healed skin. “Does it use a lot of energy?”

He folded his coat over his left arm. “It can, if the wounds are deep, or numerous. This wasn’t too bad, though the burns need a bit more time. We should keep going. If there are others they will smell the blood.”

“I don’t think there are more,” Trevor offered, but he started walking anyway.

They continued along the narrow, darkened path. It had been maintained recently, and Adrian thought he could smell wood smoke and animals but the wind was still wrong, so he couldn’t get much more than a general sense of human activity nearby.

“That weapon is impressive,” he said, indicating the Belmont heirloom. “Its quite lethal.”

Trevor broke into a big grin. “Its fucking awesome,” he said, resting his hand over it. “I killed three of those fuckers in less than a minute. Its heavy though, not as fast as the other whip and not as long. I have to have a good shot. I think on something as quick as a vampire it would take a little more skill to land the blow. The leather whip is really quick and light, easier to manipulate. I need more practice with this one.”

“I’ll throw you some ice targets,” Sypha suggested. “You can try to hit them out of the air. I need to try out some of the spells I read about too. We should work on that when we get a chance.”

“Yeah we should,” Trevor answered her. “New weapons are great but they’re a liability if you can’t use them properly. I almost sliced my hand open recalling the Morning Star when I was testing it out. I wasn’t ready for the different action. I need a few sessions to figure out its weight and range and get used to the handling.”

Adrian’s nostril’s flared and he stilled as a familiar scent found its way to him on the breeze. Blood. He put a hand out to stop Sypha and Trevor. They both turned their full attention on him, catching the way he’d gone rigid and alert.

“I smell blood. I think those night creatures got to whoever lived this way already,” he said in a low voice.

They moved into the clearing which surrounded the homestead. It was a quaint little country house with a wood shed, a small barn and a large garden. Unfortunately the night creatures had managed to kill the inhabitants already. A middle aged man with a thick beard lay face down in the middle of the lawn, a wood cutting axe gripped in his lifeless hand. His entrails were spread around him in a wide circle. A woman had been slain nearby, her body laying on its side just outside of the barn door, her throat sliced open and her dress stained with blood. The kills were fresh – they weren’t even cold or stiff yet. They had only been minutes too late to save these people.

Trevor swore and slammed his fist into the side of the barn. The animals inside were still alive; the night creatures must have been distracted by their approach or they would never have left the livestock unharmed. Adrian could hear chickens clucking in alarm.

“We were too late to help them,” Sypha said sadly, staring at the woman with a forlorn expression. Adrian put his arm around her and gently turned her away from the body. He could tell by the way she was staring that she was shaken. Sypha was accustomed to seeing death, especially since the Speakers had taken up residence in Gresit to help those harmed by the Night Horde, but seeing the wounded in the light of day was very different from fresh bodies torn open on the grass. One of the hardest parts of this messy war was the sheer volume of casualties. Most people were simply defenseless against the Horde. It was hard not to become somewhat desensitized to seeing numerous dead, but Sypha was still deeply affected by the horror of it.

“We’ll bury them,” Trevor said, his voice even. Unlike Sypha, he had seen far more of this sort of thing and was more able to deal with it. He found a shovel leaning against the side of the barn and looked around for a suitable place to bury the two. His breath was easily visible now, making a cloud in front of him on each exhale. It had gotten a lot colder in the last hour.

“We need to stay here tonight,” Adrian pointed out, just in case either of them were planning otherwise. All of them were tired, and a real roof over their heads would be most welcome, even if it belonged to the pair who were now dead on their own lawn.

“Yeah, maybe you guys go check inside and I’ll get started on this,” Trevor gestured to the woman with the end of the shovel, then he disappeared around the barn. It wasn’t an unusual reaction for Trevor to take it upon himself to dig a grave or two. While they could not possibly bury every dead person they came across, sometimes it was simply the decent thing to do, and moreover, Adrian thought it was Trevor’s way of coping. Keeping his hands busy and doing something to help was better than doing nothing. Adrian led Sypha up to the house, his arm still around her shoulders. She looked uncomfortable with the idea of spending the night here when the two owners were so freshly murdered, but there was really no better option and this was not the time for emotion to supersede reason. Adrian knew there would be supplies inside, fresh food, warm blankets, and a proper fire. The former inhabitants wouldn’t have use for them anymore. It would be stupid not to take advantage. He approached the front door, which was made of thick wooden slats and covered with heavy leather on the inside to keep out drafts. It was a log building with the living space on the main floor and a bedroom in the lofted upper floor, which was accessed by a ladder. They were greeted by a cozy, welcoming space, a small fire still burning in the hearth and a lantern lit on the table. There was a single glass window on the main floor and a few other hide-covered windows throughout the structure. All of them were shuttered, and the shutters were closed to keep the heat and light in and offer some protection from the elements. The simple furnishings looked incredibly comfortable. The scene was accompanied by the scent of ale, bread and fresh herbs coming from the small kitchen area. It was warm inside. Sypha set down her pack and looked around. Adrian did the same.

“I can put some basic wards around the exterior to give us some warning and protection from night creatures,” Sypha offered as Adrian laid his ruined coat and gloves over a wooden chair. He would ask her to repair them later, assuming she had memorized the spell.

“I’ll help Trevor with the graves then,” Adrian suggested, exiting the cottage with Sypha and setting to work.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

They buried the couple side by side between two big oak trees, filling the graves back in with dirt and some large stones while Sypha placed protective spells around the small home to allow them to rest with greater confidence. Trevor believed it unlikely that there were more night creatures in the area – if there were they would have smelled the blood already and been crawling all over the place – so the trio deemed it reasonably safe to remove their boots and outer clothes, and to try and make themselves comfortable inside for the night.

They took full advantage of the fresh food and warm fire. They hadn’t had grains in weeks, and real food was a welcome change from the bear meat and foraged greens they’d been surviving on recently. There was half a loaf of bread, butter, milk, and some fresh pork readily available, along with a variety of vegetables. Adrian took it upon himself to cook them a decent meal. While he was working on preparation Trevor stretched out on a chair in front of the hearth. He had stubbornly insisted on doing most of the digging himself, and his face was streaked with soil, his fingernails filthy. Adrian heated some water and brought him a cloth and a basin so he could wash his hands and face. He eyed them, clearly considering protest, before grumbling something unintelligible and acquiescing.

Sypha found a corner far enough away from Adrian’s meal preparations where she could take another look at the Belmont vampire book. She lit a candle and sat in a worn armchair with the tome spread open in her lap. He felt his skin crawl when she pulled it out, nearly causing him to drop the knife he was holding to chop onions. He glanced at her intending to complain, but he was arrested by the way her face looked, lit by the candle and the glow of the hearth. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold outside, her hair a bit tangled. Her eyes were glued to the page in complete fascination and she was chewing absently on her bottom lip, a habit he had noticed she fell into when she was concentrating. She didn’t seem to notice him watching her, so absorbed was she by whatever was written. He set down the knife and just stared at her with a helpless smile. She was gorgeous, completely engrossed in her book and oblivious to everything else. He turned his eyes on Trevor, who had finished washing up and was now dozing in the chair, his head tilted back and his arm dangling over the side. His legs were splayed wide and his other hand rested loosely on his stomach. He was breathing slow and even. His face was slack, expressionless. In sleep he looked so much younger, the hard lines soft, the sharp glint of his eyes absent. His mouth was open slightly. He didn’t look like a warrior or a hunter at the moment. He looked like an exhausted young man who hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open for another minute.

Adrian was overcome suddenly by the depth of his own feeling. How deeply he loved them. He was grateful for them, and terrified that they might die at any moment. He knew he would outlive them both eventually, but he wasn’t prepared to let them go. He needed more time. No matter how long he had with them it would never be enough. Somehow it was easier to understand how his father could lose his mind at the death of his wife. If he felt about her the way Adrian felt about Trevor and Sypha then it was easy to see how it had come about, even though his father was dealing with it in the worst possible way. To have this wonderful sensation ripped away with no warning would effectively destroy him. It may well push him to madness. It was enough to make him selfishly want to try and turn them both, even though he was fairly certain he couldn’t do it. His father believed him incapable of making another vampire, but he had still confided the process in case he wished to try someday. Once Adrian had asked his father why he had not made Lisa into a vampire. Dracula had grown morose and ended the discussion abruptly. When he asked his mother the same thing she had given him a sad smile and pulled him close, kissing his hair and explaining to him that she wanted to live and die as a mortal. “Adrian I wasn’t meant to live more than one lifetime,” she had said, and he’d been confused and upset by her useless explanation. “Don’t you want to be with us forever, Mother?” he’d asked, feeling slighted. She’d told him she would always be with them, and that he would always have his father, no matter what happened. He’d been unsatisfied by her answers but she’d distracted him away from the conversation and they hadn’t brought it up again. To this day he had difficulty understanding why she refused to be changed. It seemed unfair to his father that he could only have her for such a short time, when she meant so much to him.

He turned back to his meal preparation and listened to the reassuring noises of his companions’ presence while he finished chopping the vegetables and rubbing the pork with fresh rosemary, sage and thyme. He combined everything into a large cast iron, covering it to bake it in its own juices. The cottage was cozy and the glow of the lanterns and hearth painted everything in a warm softness. It was comfortable. Trevor was snoring lightly, and every so often there was a rustle of paper when Sypha turned a page. Adrian had brewed some tea and she was nursing a mug, her fingers cupped around it for warmth. He sipped his own mug thoughtfully.

It was an unexpectedly domestic moment. This situation had somehow become an odd window into what life might be like if they lived together. A quaint little cottage in the woods was a far cry from the castle, but the easy feeling of being together and doing something so mundane was incredibly comforting to Adrian. It triggered fond memories of sitting at the kitchen table as a boy; his father would be tending something that smelled delicious on the wood burning stove while his mother taught him about medical procedures or mathematics, referring to textbooks which were splayed over the table for easy access. Of course the castle had a huge overwrought formal dining room, but when it was only the three of them they ate together in the kitchen. The servants knew to give them space and his father enjoyed cooking from time to time, even though it was supposedly women’s work. He always explained what he was doing to an eager young Adrian, teaching him which spices went best with which meats or vegetables, how to ensure everything would be ready at the same time, and what tasted good together. While his father had no need for human food he liked to prepare it anyway, and he often ate with his wife and son.

Adrian wondered if he might someday share meals like this with Trevor and Sypha in the castle, or maybe a home they built together. He thought his heart might burst from the sheer pleasure of such a prospect. He secretly loved the idea of keeping them both fed and happy, even though he knew it was an unorthodox scenario that would likely never come to fruition. Sypha had said she wanted to see what it was like to live in a house at some point in her life, and that she wanted children. Here, in this small cottage with the scent of roasting meat and wool he could picture it. He could picture an impossible life where the three of them lived together and raised a family. It kind of fell apart when he tried to imagine what they would do for work, where they might live, what the neighbours would think. It wouldn’t work – not really. Well, Sypha and Trevor could do it, but Adrian knew that he couldn’t really play an equal role alongside them. There was the matter of the church – anywhere they went the church would be there to persecute his very existence as well as their unacceptable threesome – and he would not age, so after a few years he would have to leave or people would become suspicious. In time he might look more like Trevor and Sypha’s grown son or even grandson than their lover. And there was the matter of his effect on people in general – they could sense he was different, even if they didn’t know exactly why or how – they were naturally wary of him, uncomfortable in the presence of a predator.

It was a fantastical idea which could never really come to pass, but there was a slim possibility that they might be able to enjoy some of those things in their own way, if not in the wholly mundane way that most people did. They could hop from place to place in the castle, live for a time, then move somewhere else when people got suspicious. His human lovers could marry and pretend that he was a friend or relative who was staying with them. Trevor and Sypha could have children if they wanted to, and Adrian knew he would be there to stand by any future generations they produced. He was not entirely opposed to the possibility of fathering a child himself, but that was perhaps pushing his domestic fantasy a bit too far. He could never expect Sypha to bear him a babe which would grow fangs and thirst for human blood. Even a quarter vampire child would likely share some of his supernatural traits, and he knew how difficult it was to be the only one of his kind. It would be unfair to bring a new person into the world who was cursed with two natures. Instead he would be overjoyed to someday play a role in the life of any offspring his partners produced. That would be enough. It would give him something to hold onto after they were gone, a reason to remain connected to the human world.

He wiped those thoughts from his mind and decided to focus on the moment rather than a fanciful future which was only in his imagination. It would make him miserable to dwell on such things, especially when the three of them were not even certain to live out the week. Even so, it was still nice to pretend. Sypha was looking at him over her book. He blinked at her, realizing he’d been standing in front of the counter with his teacup halfway to his mouth and staring off into space, lost in his thoughts.

“Where’d you just go?” she asked with a teasing smile.

He shook his head. “Just thinking. Nothing important.”

She closed the book and slipped it back into its bag, arresting the unpleasant sensation it emitted. She left it on the chair and crossed the room, taking the cup from his hand and setting it out of the way. She gathered both his hands in hers and leaned up on her toes to give him a kiss. He dipped his head so she could reach, her lips touching his cheek.

“You have a look when you’re thinking too hard Adrian,” she told him, that smile still on her lips.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you had it just now. You go very still, and your eyes are far away. You don’t move at all. Like a statue. You were holding your teacup for a solid five minutes. You didn’t even blink.”

Adrian tried to imagine how silly he must have looked, standing there and staring off into space. His cheeks flushed but Sypha didn’t let him turn away. She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, tucking a few strands of blonde behind his ear. “When you sleep too, you hardly move. There are so many little things I’ve noticed about you recently that I never thought of before.”

He knew he could be very still, that was absolutely a trait from his vampire side. She was speaking to him with a teasing fondness, but as he watched all her sweetness evaporated in favour of a far more maniacal expression that instantly made Adrian wonder what she wanted. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that...”

She grinned guiltily. “I want to try something, and I thought you might be willing to be my assistant. Well, test subject.”

Adrian looked at the large dish that still needed to bake for awhile before it would be ready. He glanced at Trevor, who was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world. “Will it take long?”

Sypha shook hear head. “Its from that book. There are some spells to temporarily disable or neutralize a vampire, but they shouldn’t cause any harm. I want to test them, but without an actual vampire I have no idea what they would do.”

Adrian’s eyes widened and he gently pried himself free from Sypha’s grasp. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was be subjected to anything she found in that awful book. Especially something she’d never tried before. “You should practice first…”

“I need a vampire to practice on, or there is nowhere to focus the spell. It won’t hurt you, but these things might be helpful against Dracula. Its important that I know what I’m doing. I don’t have to use full power. I can try it with only a tiny bit of magic just to see how it works,” she stared into his eyes, her lip forming into the barest hint of a pout. He felt his resolve crumbling into dust at that look. “Please, Adrian?”

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. He really would do anything Sypha asked of him. It was insane. He couldn’t bring himself to refuse, even though he vehemently did not want to do it. He found himself sighing in resignation and agreeing to help her. He checked on the meal, satisfied that it would be fine to be left unattended for awhile, then followed her out of the cottage.

It had grown extremely cold, even Adrian’s breath made small puffs when he exhaled. The sky was still clear and cloudless, watched over by the white eye of the moon which already sat high in the sky. It was a beautiful, if frigid night. Adrian was very glad they’d managed somewhere warm to sleep.

“Alright, there are two spells I want to try,” Sypha said matter-of-factually, getting right down to it before Adrian could smarten up and change his mind. “I think it would be best if you tried to evade, so its harder for me to hit you with them. I really doubt any vampire would stand still while I cast, so just move around me, use your speed. Try not to get hit.”

“I can do that,” Adrian obliged, secretly thankful he wasn’t being asked to stand in one place and simply be hit with a spell. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from dodging it.

Sypha made some sharp motions with her hands, sliding one foot back and closing her eyes. Adrian watched her for a moment as she called a tiny ball of glittering power into her hands. When she summoned ice or fire they each had a characteristic scent, colour, and feel; this was different. It was brighter, and sparkled like diamonds. It smelled floral, unlike the chemical scent of most other magic. Usually it was ozone or brimstone or charred carbon. This was like a pungent flower that stuck in his nose and made him snort in displeasure. He stared at the little flashing orb, watching the glittering facets reflect off of her face and the ground around her. It was actually quite pretty. Sypha inhaled deeply, opening her eyes. They were almost luminous, as they often were when she cast a spell. She moved to strike, her body tensing, and he darted out of the way before she could target him with the spell. The shot sailed harmlessly past him. He watched it go then turned back to her, narrowly sidestepping the second attempt to pin him with a shimmering orb. She got faster after the first few, but didn’t manage to hit him with any. She was just not fast enough – or perhaps he was too fast for her. He was able to dart easily in and out of her field of view and she attempted ten times, none of them striking him. Finally he appeared right behind her with a toothy, catlike smile.

“You’re too slow to catch me,” he gloated into her ear, wrapping his arms around her from behind and mock attacking her neck. He let his fangs scrape her flesh harmlessly before planting a kiss on her throat. “I guess I’ll have to eat you.”

“Not quite,” she said confidently, twisting slightly in his arms and stepping back. He saw the smug look on her face and his stomach dropped. She raised her hand between them, fingers spread wide, then she snapped them shut, making a fist.

Each of the ten little balls of magic suddenly converged on him before he knew what was happening. He was immediately engulfed in overwhelming, glittering light. It was like being swallowed by the light of the sun; it seared and burned his eyes, blinding him completely in an instant. He tried to blink it away but it was relentless, seemingly coming from every direction. He moaned in shock as a rushing roar filled his ears and blocked out everything else. He couldn’t sense the night, the cottage, or Sypha at all; he was totally swallowed by the spell. He tried to move and found he was paralyzed by the holy light, his body unresponsive and helpless. The spell lasted for several long seconds in which time he struggled to free himself, tried without success to teleport because he needed to be able to see where he was going and he could see nothing but sparkling whiteness. Closing his eyes did nothing; the white light was everywhere. If he were actually in a real fight he was sure his enemy could have killed him twice over in the space of time it took for the magic to release him.

The spell ended abruptly and the holy light dissipated, leaving him blinking hard and trying to regain his senses. His hearing returned before his vision. He felt Sypha beside him, her heart beating rapidly. He could hear the insects and denizens of the forest going about their business as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. Slowly his vision returned, the spots fading and Sypha’s blurry figure coming into view. He was standing exactly where he had been struck, in the same position. He rubbed his eyes. They ached, the damage from the light healing slowly. Everything felt a bit off but it was coming back to him.

Sypha was looking at him expectantly. “Are you ok?” she asked, putting a hand on his upper arm. He nodded slowly.

“Yes,” he said, partly to assure himself, and partly for her. “What was that?”

“It was a holy light spell. It tracks the target and converges on them when they stop moving. Perfect for enemies who are too fast for me to attack. I can use the same spell as a regular attack, without the tracking part. What did it feel like? I didn’t use very much power on it, but you were moaning. Did it hurt?”

Adrian shook his head. “It didn’t hurt exactly, it was like… looking at the sun, only I couldn’t see anything, or hear anything. I couldn’t move at all. It burned my eyes, but they healed quickly.”

Sypha considered his answer, shivering slightly in the crisp night. “The other spell is similar, it should have a comparable effect. Will you let me try?”

Adrian sighed but it was full of fondness and he was smiling at her. “I don’t know how you talk me into these things Sypha.”

She laughed at that. “Just try to not to get hit. This one might be a bit more intense. I’m going to use more magic. Try to get close to me, like you would in an attack.”

Adrian was a lot more careful this time. He put some distance between them and circled around her, watching her hand movements and the way she was following him with her eyes, but making no move to launch any balls of light like the last time. She planted herself firmly and gave him a challenging smirk. He circled closer, darting forward and swiping at her in a mock slash.

When he got a few inches from her the world erupted with the same intense white hot light from before, only far stronger. This time he was knocked backwards by the force of it. He landed squarely on his back, paralyzed once more by the rushing din that overtook his senses and left him helpless to move or see. His retinas burned brighter this time, the holy flare of glittering light accompanied by an overwhelming sense of awe that left him too stunned to react. He was rapt, held still by what he could only describe as Heavenly light. It sung in his head, thrummed inside his body, made his skin ache from the power of it washing over him and holding him in place with a divine goodness. Being half human, Adrian was unaffected by holy water or salt, but this was far more than that. He felt like he was seeing some profound iteration of deity. He felt like God was standing squarely on his chest and stripping away his layers, exposing him for the devilish beast that he was and it was unbearable. He whimpered, a thin noise he wasn’t able to hear over the holy roar of the spell. He laid helpless and prostrate with his eyes wide and unblinking, staring into the gleaming whiteness with wonder. It hurt his skin, it was so good it was intolerable. When it dissipated he was left stunned, and he thought he might have sobbed briefly at the emptiness where the light had been. He made no move to get up, instead laying where he was while his eyes repaired themselves, reeling from the intensity of the spell.

Sypha leaned over him and peered into his face. “Adrian?”

He couldn’t see her at first, but she came slowly into focus, her figure sharpening. He blinked, looking into her wide blue eyes quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to get up yet.

“Are you hurt?” she looked a bit worried that he wasn’t moving. He was fine, he simply needed a few moments to compose himself. The second spell had been far more debilitating than the first. He shook his head slightly, licking his lips. His mouth was dry. He was thirsty. Between healing his injuries earlier and enduring the spells, he had worked up an appetite. He sat up, raking his fingers through his hair.

“That was… intense.” he said in a low, reverent voice. “That will definitely stop a vampire.”

“Well that’s a relief. I can cast that one on a person, a location or an object, then its triggered when a vampire moves into range. The book described it as being intended to incapacitate a powerful vampire in order to land a more damaging attack. Do you think it will work on your father?”

Adrian considered for a moment, but he really didn’t know. His father was notoriously secretive about his few weaknesses, and despite their shared blood, Adrian’s physiology was vastly different from the King of Vampires’. He did know, however, that his father could not walk in the sun. Whether it would destroy him on contact was uncertain. Somehow Adrian doubted it – that seemed too easy. He shrugged at Sypha. “I can’t say, but maybe it would stun him. The second one you tried was… odd. Its difficult to describe. It was powerfully good. Holy. I could speculate that Father would be weak to that sort of thing, but I really don’t know. He is often the exception to many of the rules of our kind. Don’t count on it working. Its safest to never assume he will react the way you expect. But on a regular vampire? I imagine it would be even more effective than it was on me, and I couldn’t even blink.”

Sypha extended a hand and he allowed her to help him up, even though he was perfectly capable of standing unaided. Her hand was warm in his. It was hard to believe that her small figure contained so much power. He pulled her against his body suddenly, hugging her tightly to his chest on a whim. Her feet lifted a few inches off the ground. “You’re the most stunning woman Sypha,” he told her as he scooped her up princess-style and carried her back to the cottage.

“Put me down! I can walk!” she protested, squirming in his arms. He held her easily, enjoying the way she wriggled and playfully fought his hold. He dug his fingers into her ribs, quickly discovering that she was horribly ticklish. She screeched as he expertly played his fingers in the sensitive space under her arms and she started kicking, fighting more desperately to try and get away from his torturous fingertips.

Adrian! Stop! Please- Ahahaha! You cant- TREVOR!” she called, gasping for breath and twisting in his unbreakable hold. He didn’t give her a chance to get away, the game far too enjoyable now to let her go. Her heart was pounding hard enough that he felt it in her back, against the arm holding her. She was flushed, trying in vain to free herself. The pleasure of trapping her and her violent attempts to escape were triggering his instincts, and he could feel the predatory edge creeping closer to the surface, woken by their play. He knew he was looking on her with red tingeing his eyes, but it was alright. It was just a game. He relented for a brief moment, giving her a chance to suck in a breath. They were close to the house now, and Trevor must have heard her cry for help because there was some frantic shuffling inside then the door was ripped open, an angry hunter barreling through in sock feet just as Adrian sank his fingers into her sides again, sending her into peals of helpless gasped laughter.

“Sypha!” Trevor shouted, his hand on his whip and his eyes frantically searching for her. The doorway cast them both in a beam of warm light. It shone in Adrian’s eyes, which reflected it in the darkness like something wild.

“Trevor!” Sypha managed. “Help!”

Adrian grinned toothily and moved his fingers to Sypha’s stomach, tickling her mercilessly there and she kicked out, trying to break free.

Trevor rushed forward, drawing his whip, but he seemed to realize before he struck that she wasn’t actually in danger, despite her desperate pleas for help. She wasn’t being torn apart; they were playing. Well, Adrian was. By this point Sypha seemed to be genuinely trying her hardest to free herself, and Trevor came to her aid, much to Adrian’s amusement. He wondered if he might have them both, some greedy, spoiled part of him trying to calculate how he could subdue the pair of them. The slight pause was all Trevor needed to get behind him and push his knee between his legs, attacking his ribs with ten fingers. Adrian hadn’t expected that. He thought Trevor would try to free Sypha, but his mistake was his downfall. He’d left himself open and now he was the one squawking and trying to squirm away from probing fingers in his middle.

He dropped Sypha rather unceremoniously and tried to twist around, giggling despite himself when Trevor found his most ticklish spot and dug his fingertips in. Sypha landed with an _oof_ and she was up in an instant, boxing Adrian in between them and adding her hands into the mix. Adrian squealed like a child, laughing and trying very hard not to accidentally hurl either of them across the lawn or break them. They were playing but he wasn’t entirely able to control his reactions to their attacks. Fortunately for them he he managed, for the moment.

“Stop… please, you have to stop,” he begged, but Sypha was hellbent on revenge now and she worked her way under his arm to his armpits, and Adrian shrieked. “No! I-I can’t-” he tried, but they had him nearly doubled over, he thought he might pee if they didn’t stop.

“Thought you could tickle me and get away with it?” Sypha said, grinning triumphantly as Adrian shrank down, trying to evade her hands without hurting her. Her face was flushed splotchy red from laughing so hard.

“Sypha s-stop, I’ll hurt you,” he managed, and she relented briefly, allowing Adrian a moment to catch his breath. Trevor had his arms pinned behind his back, giving Sypha a chance to exact her vengeance.

“You’d never hurt Sypha,” Trevor said behind him, still holding his arms. The playful threat was all over Trevor’s words, and Adrian gulped, realizing his predicament. He could feel both Trevor and Sypha’s panted breath on his skin and he considered his options, but before he could come up with anything Trevor hauled him over his shoulder fireman style, and carried him into the warm rectangle of light spilling from the cottage doorway.

Sypha followed them in and shut the door. Adrian was looking at everything upside down, dangling behind Trevor, bouncing against him with each step. He seized his opportunity and grabbed at Trevor’s middle, ticking his sides.

Only, it turns out that Trevor Belmont was not ticklish. Adrian tried a little higher, tried his stomach, ribs, and got nothing. No reaction but a smug snort, and then he was dropped from Trevor’s shoulder to the worn floorboards. He was so shocked he made no move to break his fall and landed on the floor in a tangle of his own limbs. He sat up, disheveled, staring at Trevor like he was an actual monster.

“You aren’t ticklish?”

Trevor gave him a lopsided smile. “Nope.”

“And _I’m_ the inhuman one,” Adrian said, scandalized.

“I’m hungry,” Sypha interrupted, effectively ending the tickle fight before it could get back into full swing.

The timing was perfect, as the pork was just finished. Adrian got himself composed and found some oven mitts, pulling the big dish from the fire and setting it on the thick wooden counter. He removed the lid, waving his mitt to clear some of the heat and leaving the meal to cool while he searched for plates and utensils. He followed his nose to the ale, which was in a small barrel still plenty full and not yet spoiled. He filled three cups and put two them on the table along with the bread and butter.

“Jesus Adrian you would make a fuck of a wife,” Trevor said fondly when the largest cup was placed into his hands. Adrian quickly turned so Trevor wouldn’t see his cheeks go pink.

Sypha was watching them with an amused expression and admonished Trevor with a swat to the back of the head. “Don’t you dare tease him, that pork smells even better than the bear roast he made before. One of us should be able to cook and it sure isn’t going to be me. All I can do is set things of fire. I’m worse than useless in a kitchen. I’m actually a danger. So unless you’re planning on learning to cook more than meat on a stick over a campfire I suggest you shut up.”

“Noted,” Trevor said, gesturing with his cup before taking a deep drink from it.

Adrian watched them with a silly smile. His heart was so full he thought it might spring a leak. He set the cast iron on the center of the table and gathered Sypha’s hand in his own, bending to kiss it. He glanced up at her and gave her a fanged smile. “Dinner is served, my lady,” he led her to a chair, pulling it out for her. Trevor watched them, a smile on his lips even though he was trying to stifle it. Before he could move to his own chair Adrian flashed to his side and slipped an arm around his waist, leaning in to kiss him on the mouth. “Enjoy your dinner,” he said in a slightly mocking tone before taking his own chair and sipping his ale.

The meal was lovely. They tucked into it quickly and finished as much as they could so there would be no leftovers to deal with. While eating they discussed their best course of action and possible strategies for approaching the castle and the battle that loomed large in their future.

It was agreed that they would scour the cottage for whatever was useful in the morning. There were horses in the barn, and there was likely a wagon or carriage of some sort. They’d been so occupied with burying the former inhabitants they hadn’t spent much time looking around. It was late and Trevor and Sypha were both beginning to yawn, the ale making them sleepy. Trevor had made a strong point that they needed to practice with any new weapons or spells before the fact, and with the possibility of faster travel, they might take an extra day to do exactly that, to ensure they were as prepared as they could possibly be when the battle finally came.

After the dishes were cleared and the ale was finished they decided together to sleep on the main floor, rather than in the dead cottager’s bed. Adrian couldn’t ignore their strong scent in the bedding and Sypha said it felt wrong to sleep there, although Trevor had grumbled that they were dead anyway and wouldn’t give a shit either way. They still managed to make a very comfortable nest in front of the hearth. They extinguished the lanterns and Trevor began to strip off.

Adrian hesitated, staring at the bedding and the hunter’s body, the planes of his musculature highlighted by the shadows as he removed his clothing. Sypha slipped her robes off too, her soft pale curves making him swallow thickly. She padded on bare feet to him, wrapping him in a hug. Her scent filled his head, her bare skin and her sex hot against his body, even through his clothes. He could smell Trevor too, his maleness contrasting with Sypha’s more delicate female scent. Trevor stretched his arms over his head, revealing his whole body limned in the firelight, the sharp angle of his hip, the powerful muscles of his thighs, and the dark nest of curled hair where his organ hung between his legs. Adrian stared, and Trevor caught his gaze and smiled at him handsomely. He closed the distance between them, joining Sypha in wrapping his arms around Adrian and ensuring that the blush which had already started on his face spread all the way to the tips of his slightly pointed ears, and down his chest past the neck of his shirt.

Despite how badly he wanted both of them, Adrian was still working through the very real trauma of what had happened to him, and he was scared that if he took off his clothes that he might find himself seized by panic like he had been last time he’d tried to be naked with them. He squeezed his eyes shut, warring with himself and tensing up between them beyond his own control.

He did not expect Trevor’s lips on his cheek, or his hand stroking his hair. Nor did he expect Sypha’s fingers to slip around his own, or her cheek to press over his heart. As the minutes passed accompanied only by the beating of their three hearts and the lazy crackle of the small fire in the hearth, Adrian found himself curious as to what they were waiting for. He expected them to pull him into their nest, or to remove his clothes, but they didn’t. They held him carefully, patiently touching him in the places they knew he was okay with. He eventually grew brave enough to open his eyes, and found himself looking into two faces which stared back at him openly, waiting for him to give them an indication that they could go further. He worried at his lip, one fang pressing into the flesh and drawing Trevor’s eye.

“I-Im sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say. Some baser part of his brain was telling him to run, but he squashed it down and told it to be silent; he wasn’t going to run away from this. It might be his only chance to be close to them, and even if it was difficult, he was going to try.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Trevor admonished gently.

“Would you like to lay down together?” Sypha asked, tugging his hand and leading him towards the blankets and pillows. He nodded at her, his eyes drawn to the curve of her buttocks moving as she drew him behind her by the hand.

“You don’t have to take your clothes off if you don’t want to Adrian,” she crawled onto the mound of bedding and patted the middle of it. Trevor’s arm was around his waist, fingers curled around his hip.

They were trying to be comforting and understanding, and it was sweet. Incredibly sweet. But it made him feel like they thought he was fragile, and he hated that. He wasn’t made of glass. He was just – as Trevor had so eloquently phrased it – all screwed up. He simply needed to find the courage to move past what had happened. He looked at Sypha. “I do want to,” he said, but his hands were frozen at his sides. His frustration and hesitation made him rigid, his shoulders tightening.

“I have an idea,” Trevor said from behind him. “Sit down, I need a second.”

Adrian eyed him suspiciously, but he obliged, sinking to the nest of bedding beside Sypha’s figure. She immediately snuggled up to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, lacing their fingers together. They watched Trevor go into his pack and root around, retrieving something and returning to their nest. He knelt in front of Adrian, still naked.

“This,” he held up a strip of cloth, “Is to blindfold you. So you can relax. Normally I’d say we’ll just put out the fire but you would still be able to see. Every time you freaked out before it was when you saw your scars. I think this will help.”

Adrian gave the bit of cloth a dubious eye. “You want to blindfold me?”

Trevor nodded. “Yeah. This was in my bag, so it smells like my stuff. Familiar. Scent is important, right? If you hate it you can just take it off. But its worth a shot.”

Adrian stared at the hunter for a long moment, wondering how a little bit of cloth could possibly do anything to combat his irrational feelings of revulsion and anxiety. He was skeptical, but it was harmless, and if it didn’t help he could just remove it. He felt ridiculous, but he wanted to be close to them and he didn’t want to have another bought of panic send him into hysterics. He glanced at Sypha beside him and she was looking hopefully at him.

“I’ll try it,” he said after some deliberation.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**


	21. Part Twenty-One

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-One**

Adrian sat rather stiffly as Trevor secured the blindfold over his eyes. He knew it must look silly but he supposed it didn’t matter, it was only the three of them anyhow. He blinked experimentally and found that it effectively blocked his vision, even when his eyes were open behind the cloth. He noticed Trevor’s scent right away, and found that the hunter had been right – it was oddly comforting and familiar, better than if they had found something from around the cottage which would smell foreign to him.

Even without his sight Adrian was not especially debilitated. His other senses were very acute; his hearing alone could serve him quite well in most things. What he couldn’t hear he could smell or feel, and he was with the two people he trusted most in the world so he was able to relax without the need to keep alert for danger. Sypha’s protective spells would give them warning if anything approached the cottage.

With that in mind, he allowed himself to take a few deep breaths, and to listen with renewed awareness to the room around him. Of course he was able to very clearly hear both Trevor and Sypha’s hearts and their breathing, and he was enveloped in their scent. He also heard the fire quietly hissing and crackling a few feet away – it had burned low and it was about time to throw another log on. The wood was oak and hickory. The cabin itself had a number of creaks and groans that he hadn’t noticed before; a shutter banging in the breeze, the patter of mice beneath the floor, one board that squeaked whenever Trevor shifted over top of it.

He startled when a pair of warm hands made contact with his shoulders. It was only Trevor, who settled behind him. The man’s body was incredibly warm. He had one leg spread on either side of him, so Adrian was able to lean back against the strong planes of his chest. For the moment he stayed where he was and let them both shift and take the lead. Sypha crawled into his lap and placed his hands on her hips. Heat curled through him when he realized he could smell her sex between them. His hands on her hips tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“What do I feel like Adrian?” she asked him, and he smoothed his palms slowly along her hips, up to her waist.

“Soft,” he said in answer, his hands gripping her trim waist gently. “Warm.”

Trevor’s hands began to work his shoulders over his shirt. Strong fingers gripped his muscles, sliding along his back and climbing slowly higher to curl around the back of his neck and squeeze at the base of his skull. He sighed as the tension drained from his shoulders. He abandoned his worry over his scars in favour of being touched and touching them. With Sypha in his lap and Trevor behind him he felt wrapped in heat, and he heard one beating heart at his back and another in front of him, Sypha’s pulse thrumming beneath his fingers all through her body.

“I think this was a good idea,” Trevor’s voice rumbled through him. He could smell the hunter’s breath when he exhaled, familiar and laced with ale and their dinner.

“Hm,” Adrian answered, melting into the hands that were now creeping into his hair, massaging his scalp like Sypha had a few days ago. It was no less effective at reducing him to mush this time around. It was perfect. He felt himself drifting, lulling and floating shapelessly between them.

Sypha’s hands slipped down his chest and stomach. She slowly tugged up the hem of his shirt and touched his abdomen. He inhaled sharply, his belly tightening. He felt like his skin was extra sensitive, his whole body was alert and hyper aware. Somehow not being able to see Sypha’s hands on him made the feeling of her touch more powerful. She began to work his shirt up a little at a time. Every few inches she rewarded him with her palms sliding along the newly exposed skin. It was hard to believe they were so warm; had Sypha and Trevor always been so warm? Had he always been able to smell their skin so acutely, and feel the throb of their pulses beneath? Trevor had a vaguely spicy, sharp sort of undertone that Adrian hadn’t really thought about before, and Sypha smelled a bit like magic; it hovered around her and he could hardly believe he hadn’t noticed it until now. Trevor’s hands were deep in his hair now, raking over his scalp and making him groan and sag into him. Sypha had pulled his shirt nearly up to his breast. He knew she must be able to see several of the scars. He could feel her hands roving over them and he wanted to protest but it was difficult to find resistance when it felt so wonderful to be touched.

“Can I take your shirt off?” she asked him and he mumbled his assent. Trevor helped her, pulling it up from behind while she gripped the front and they eased it over his head. He lifted his arms like a child, obligingly letting them undress him. The open air was cool on his chest and he stiffened, realizing that he was now entirely exposed and they would be able to see everything clearly. He shifted, instinctively trying to cover himself.

“Don’t look,” he said with worry, his hands folding over his chest. He knew the marks were on his back too, and he pressed deeper against Trevor so he wouldn’t be able to see them. The exploring hands stopped and instead he was wound into a hug from in front and behind, two heads tilting against his own and kissing him, Trevor’s lips by his ear, and Sypha’s on his cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” Sypha said to him gently as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “You don’t need to hide from us.”

“She’s right,” Trevor agreed. His beard scraped the skin just behind Adrian's ear, tickling him. “You’re gorgeous. A few scars isn’t going to change that.”

He felt Sypha’s breasts flattening against his chest, which was a considerable distraction. Her pulse right in front of his face was as well. He put his mouth on her before he thought about it, feeling the blood beneath her skin moving under his lips and tongue. His fangs woke up, twinging and aching suddenly. He was thirsty. And he could actually bite her. His body shuddered from head to toe at the realization that he could have her right now. He could taste her blood and it would be okay. It was ingrained habit to refuse his hunger so he closed his mouth and clenched his teeth tightly, trying to will his urges down to a more manageable level. Everything was very sensual and intimate right now and he didn’t want to spoil it with his appetite. They were making progress. He was sitting between them and they could see every disfiguring mark and he hadn’t descended into abject panic as of yet. Still, he felt Trevor stiffen slightly, perhaps realizing what he was experiencing, or at least feeling the way he was forcing his teeth together so he wouldn’t be tempted to open his mouth again. It was hard to steer his thoughts away from feeding. Once he let himself seriously consider it his mind seemed to grab onto that theme and run with it.

Trevor’s hands came over his shoulders, squeezing his upper arms. “Adrian, try to relax,” he urged, rubbing up and down. The hands on him were so hot, and a bit rough, the sensation of them working along his arms helping marginally. Sypha withdrew from her tight hug and the throat against his face wasn’t quite so close. He deflated, sighing and letting his jaw soften somewhat. His fangs still throbbed, but it was easier to remember himself without the temptation directly in front of him like it had been a moment ago.

Sypha took his hands and placed them over her breasts and he was amazed at the soft, heavy sensation of them. With the blindfold removing his vision they seemed larger in his hands. He squeezed them experimentally and she made a small noise of enjoyment; he could hear her smiling.

“Its fucking hot watching you touch her like that,” Trevor said from behind him, his hand joining Adrian’s over one of her breasts. They kneaded and played with it together, Trevor gripping her a bit harder and eliciting and little twitch from her hips. Her core grew hotter, her scent a little stronger in his lap. He was beginning to get hard, and so was Trevor. He could feel the hunter’s organ growing firm and pressing into his low back. He liked the way Trevor’s hand covered his. He slid his fingers to her nipple. It was soft at first but he rolled his fingers over the small bud and felt it tighten and spring up, hardening as he brushed his thumb over it. Now it was jutting proudly forwards and the small ring of flesh around it was shrunken and more textured. The tiny bumps and dimples of her aureola were usually negligible but he felt them now, each small detail revealing itself under his fingertips. Trevor pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she made an encouraging noise, a small groan that rumbled in her chest and vibrated through her throat.

Adrian couldn’t believe how many small things he was noticing, and how everything seemed more intense than it usually did. All of his instincts were waking up, coming to the fore. Not only those that urged him to feed, but also his normal male desires for pleasure and physical contact. He wanted to touch every part of them, to taste them and bury himself against their bodies. He wanted to be even closer, and they were already wrapped around him from both directions. He left Trevor to play with Sypha’s breasts so he could slide his hands around her torso to her back. He followed the long planes of the erector muscles which hugged her spine, each bump of vertebrae leading him along the column until his hands were at the base of her skull and slipping into her short curls. Even her hair felt different – more. The strands were soft and dry, light between his fingers. He traced around the lobes of her ears, which made her suck in a breath sharply then let it out slowly, her body slackening in his lap, her legs splaying a bit wider as she relaxed. He traced the line of her jaw and slowly brought her face towards his own.

The heat of her skin rolled over his face, along with her breath and the scent of her mouth and hair. He wanted to kiss her, but he was absorbed also in feeling each part of her, slowly tracing her cheeks with his thumbs, the delicate brush of her eyelashes tickling him when she blinked. He dragged his thumb over the full curve of her lower lip then she surprised him by sucking it into her mouth. It was hot and wet around his cool skin. Her dull teeth closed playfully over his digit and the flat part of her tongue laved it curiously. He could even determine the unusual texture of her taste buds sliding over his skin. Her canines protruded slightly – not like his own but still pointed – and they nipped his thumb and flooded his mind with distracting thoughts of biting her. He withdrew his thumb from her mouth, finding his own parched and dry suddenly. He eased her a few inches further from him, swallowing carefully. His teeth felt sharper, and the distraction of her pulse was once more loud in his ears.

Trevor had been watching them with his chin over Adrian’s shoulder and his hands working over Sypha’s breasts. Now he placed his palms on Adrian’s chest and opened his mouth over the curve of his left shoulder. His awareness of texture and temperature was amplified – Trevor’s lips on his cooler flesh were rough and very warm, a sensation mirrored by the hands on his chest. The dull scrape of human teeth made Adrian gasp sharply and the wet attention of Trevor’s tongue was enough to send gooseflesh in a wave along his arms and neck. The hunter sucked at his skin intently, nipping him harder. Adrian knew he had a penchant for using his teeth, he had never been shy about it. Presently it was having an unusually powerful effect and rousing his instincts beyond what he was comfortable with. It seemed everything was having that effect, actually. The heat of their bodies was nearly overwhelming on its own, but combined with the sensation of being touched it was provoking his desire for blood. He wished he could simply shut it off, but as he grew more relaxed and aroused between his human partners he was finding that it was resurfacing over and over beyond his control. Control was something he spent so much time perfecting and he worried it might be dashed in an instant if he allowed himself to give in. He wished he knew how to explain what he was feeling so they could understand. He wanted so badly to be close to them like this. He was braving his fears by taking full advantage of the blindfold Trevor had suggested, however he was being distracted from this very important intimacy despite his best efforts.

Trevor’s hands were forcibly working his pectorals, short nails dragging along his flesh. Adrian liked that very much; his skin was incredibly sensitive but it was also quite tough and he appreciated the coarser handling. He still had some tender patches around his right shoulder and arm from the night creature’s fire burning him earlier. Trevor was avoiding that area, but he was manhandling everywhere else. Adrian sank back into the firm chest behind him and let Trevor work him. He tried to let himself simply relax – the strong hands kneading his muscles were wonderful. His mouth fell open and he groaned, realizing Sypha’s hands had joined Trevor’s on his body, once more sliding over his stomach. Her fingers traced the edge of his hip, tugging at his waistband. He was running out of room in his breeches and removing them was sounding like a very good idea. His head tipped back against Trevor’s muscled shoulder. He turned it towards his neck, kissing him and tasting sweat and salt on his skin. He could smell the blood just beneath that. That spicy, sharp tang that was uniquely Trevor filled his senses. He could feel and hear every breath the hunter drew, and the way his chest expanded with it. Each beat of his heart was a powerful drumming at his back, a distracting rhythm which was hard to ignore. As the minutes passed that sound was taking up more and more space in his head. He could literally feel Trevor’s pulse through his hands, his wrists, and loudly in his neck – it was too much. It was becoming almost suffocating to feel so many things at once and to also contend with his mounting thirst. He shook his head, twisting his face away from Trevor’s neck.

“S-stop,” he panted in a voice that was suspiciously close to a growl, sitting up straighter to put some space between he and Trevor’s bodies. He picked Sypha easily off of him, grasping her hips and setting her down beside him as though she weighed no more than a doll. The impossible heat between her legs had been pressing on his thighs deliciously. He was incredibly curious about her body and wanted very much to touch her, taste her, maybe even feel inside her eventually, but at the moment he thought he might burst if he had to endure more sensory stimulation. He pulled Trevor’s hands off of him as well and scooted out from between his legs, taking a moment to try and breathe. He planted his hands on the bedding and leaned forward. He was trembling. He was salivating, his fangs hypersensitive just like every other part of him. Just the air moving along them was too much. He closed his mouth and swallowed, breathing hard through his nose, but then their scents invaded him and he ended up burying his face in his hands and curling forward, resting his forehead in the blankets. It was too warm. He wished for something cold – that always seemed to calm him down – but short of fleeing into the night there was nothing cold to be had.

Trevor’s hand came to rest gently on his knee and he jumped at the touch. “What is it?” he asked, voice gruff with desire but also showing his concern.

Adrian couldn’t bring himself to speak just yet. He gripped the blanket tightly and worked to calm his overexcited body. How was he ever going to do this? Maybe he couldn’t. They’d lain together many times before, been naked, touched one another, and he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. He had been fine, if nervous over new experiences. His instincts had been provoked by the intimacy but he had never allowed his hunger to gain a foothold. Not an inch. He hadn’t really even thought about it. But now there was so much more happening. His feelings for them were much stronger. There was a lot of anxiety over the coming battle with his father. And of course he knew that sooner or later he was going to drink from Sypha, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Everything was more intense right now. He felt like one of the metal cables that transferred electric energy in the castle – charged and conducting everything through his body. He was different, changed by the events of the past weeks, and he was damned thirsty tonight as well. He was so accustomed to hiding that, pushing it down, ignoring it. It refused to be ignored right now. He couldn’t lay with them and pretend he wasn’t completely preoccupied with it. All of their discussions about blood drinking and hunger and instincts were flooding his mind. The memory of Sypha cradled in his lap with her neck stretched invitingly beneath his teeth. The horrible conversation where he had revealed far more to them than he had to anyone in his life. Trevor’s admittance that he was scared but willing to trust Adrian despite his personal experiences. The heightened sensations of each of them touching him while his eyes were covered. He sat up slowly, aware of them both watching him even though he was still blindfolded. He debated whether he should remove the cloth from his eyes. It had been working perfectly to keep him from seeing the marks on himself, but it was obviously contributing to the greater issue at hand.

“Just… give me a moment,” he managed, curling his hands into his own hair and trying to stop his heart from beating a hole through his chest. Trevor’s hand was still on his knee. Sypha was beside him. She tried to tug one his his hands out of his hair but he was rigid. She couldn’t move him.

“You can talk to us,” Sypha said beside him, opting to stroke his hair because he wouldn’t let her take his hand. “Is it the scars? Are you uncomfortable?”

Trevor squeezed his knee. “Tell us what you need,” he said quietly, perhaps struggling with the tenderness a bit when it didn’t come to him easily.

He had to say something. Anything. He needed to find his voice and be honest with them. He gripped his hair so hard he felt like he might yank it out by the roots. His body was wound tight, like a coiled spring. He was sure he must feel like stone under their fingertips. He stayed in that position for a moment, not breathing at all, not moving. Sypha kept petting his hair. Finally he took a shuddering breath and allowed himself to sit up. He pushed the blindfold up and pulled it off. “Everything is very intense with this,” he said quietly, opening his eyes. He squinted in the dim light in the room. He knew his sclerae were entirely red and his irises were luminous and also tinged red. “I can smell everything, hear everything. Its overwhelming.”

“You don’t have to wear it,” Sypha said to him, taking it from his hand to set out of the way. “It was just an experiment.” She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. He met her eyes, and was reminded instantly of how they had been tucked together in the Hold when she told him she wanted him to drink from her. He could hear her words in his mind as clearly as if she was saying them right now. _I trust you Adrian. I know you won’t hurt me. I want you to drink my blood._ She was wearing the same expression: open, loving, curious. Her hand trailed through his hair and down the side of his face. “Are you thirsty Adrian?”

_Yes._ _YES!_ His mind practically shouted. He had to carefully swallow back the saliva that was filling his mouth and nearly dripping from his fangs. They were tingling in anticipation. He felt it up through his jaw into his head, a pressure behind his eyes and in his ears. He nodded, his face burning in embarrassment. No matter how much they had discussed it it was still awkward to admit in front of them. They were human; it was simply not within their biology to crave what he craved. He could explain it a million ways but they would never feel what he felt. Further to that it had been so long since he’d allowed himself to consume human blood that he was out of practice where being gentle was concerned. He wasn’t used to being considerate with his meal. And he couldn’t reconcile Sypha with a _meal_. That was horrible. That was the wrong way to look at it. She was a person whom he cherished, not a wild animal. He had to be very careful and try to minimize her discomfort. If he frightened her then Trevor would probably kill him. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was only hungry and not starving. It would make that much easier.

Sypha favoured him with the softest look, her large eyes hooded and smiling. “You can bite me, I want you to.”

His breath hitched. He couldn’t help it. He shuddered, his whole body coiling with anticipation and excitement. He struggled with himself. He hadn’t wanted this evening to be about blood and thirst. He wanted intimacy. Somehow those things were getting twisted up together for him. He frowned. “This isn’t the way tonight was supposed to go. I just wanted to be close to you both. I did not intend-” he broke off mid-sentence, trying not to openly stare at the network of veins and arteries beneath her pale flesh. It was hypnotic, the way he could literally _hear_ her blood coursing beneath the surface. He found himself picking out all the best places to sink his teeth in, thinking of the way it would spurt hot into his mouth, coat his tongue and stain his lips. She was still naked, which gave him a view of less common places to bite, such as her inner thigh. God he could smell her still, how magnificent it would be to bury his face there and drink from her and be so close to her sex. He’d never even touched her there before. Never touched any woman that way. But God, somehow he knew it would be extraordinary.

He raked his hands through his hair, pulling away from her. He thought he might be losing himself. He sought out Trevor’s face, his hand. He slipped his fingers into the hunter’s and gripped desperately, meeting his eyes. Crimson bored into icy blue. Trevor studied him for a silent moment, then slipped closer to wind an arm around Adrian’s shoulders and pull him tightly against his side. “Adrian you have to relax. You’re shaking.”

“I’m _trying_ ,” he growled, fangs bared. No. That wasn’t fair to them, they were being unnecessarily obliging and he had spent far too much energy insisting that he was in control of himself to behave this way. He wouldn’t debase himself or his word by losing his composure. These people were his _world_. He _loved_ them. It was an honour to be offered Sypha’s blood and he would treat it as such. Yes, it was overwhelming. Yes his body was thrumming with expectation. He wasn’t shaking from nerves or worry. He was trembling with _excitement_ because every fiber of his being wanted this so _fucking_ badly. He was nearly drooling. But he was more than this hunger and he knew it. He had denied himself for a decade out of sheer willpower and he wasn’t going to let all of that crumble to dust before them.

He closed his eyes and took a careful, steadying breath. He forced himself to relax, to remember what was important. “I’m sorry,” he said to Trevor, tipping their heads together. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Trevor nodded against him, his arm tightening over his shoulders. He shifted so they were looking at one another, studying him for a moment. He thought that some of the red might have faded, that perhaps he looked a little more like himself now. Trevor cupped Adrian’s face, his thumb stroking along his cheek. “I know,” he said quietly, kissing him with unprecedented tenderness and holding his gaze. “I know this is a big deal for you. But I think you’ve spent long enough denying yourself Adrian. There’s a fucking gorgeous woman sitting naked in front of us and she just asked you to bite her. And uh… I think you’d better do what she says. You know she can set people on fire, right?” Trevor grinned, and it was clear that this was his way of giving his blessing. Adrian knew Trevor was still wildly uncomfortable with this entire scenario but it was very clear that he had been truthful when he said his trust was greater than his fear, or he would never have allowed any of this without a fight.

It felt surreal. He nodded numbly, flicking his eyes back to the little sorceress who had been patiently giving him the time he needed to sort himself out. She was kneeling with her legs tucked under her, the fire glowing orange and red behind her, making her look very much like she was sitting in a nest of flames. It painted her copper hair a deep red ochre. Her eyes shone brightly, the whites gleaming in her shadowed face, the blue a sharp contrast to all the warm tones. Her skin was perfect, smooth and white. She looked ethereal to Adrian. He was already moving towards her soundlessly, gathering her in his arms and pulling her into his lap.

He cradled her and smoothed her hair from her face, searching her eyes for any trace of doubt. “Sypha are you certain you want this? It will hurt,” he said, giving her another chance to back out. He had gained a hold over his intense desire in Trevor’s

arms but he knew that once he relaxed that control again he would have a very hard time reigning it in a second time.

She leaned up and kissed him slowly, sending electric tingles along his skin and making goosebumps spring up all over the back of his neck and arms. “I’m sure. I want it. Its alright Adrian.” She let her hand trace along his cheek once more. “You can bite me.”

He was touching her greedily then, his fingers dragging along her cheek, tracing the swell of her lower lip which he always found beautiful. He stroked her chin and finally let himself look at the slender column of her throat, graceful and sweeping. The tendon on the side joined the bump of her clavicle, the juncture there one of the most alluring places to him where several large vessels passed close beneath the skin, the arteries branching off from her heart and the blood there rich in oxygen, which was most desirable. An artery always tasted better than a vein, although he would not complain to have either. He could not suppress a shiver of anticipation, his finger slowly sliding along the path of the vessels in her neck, his eyes clouding entirely with red until the scelrae were once more completely crimson and his irises were luminous red. She watched him quietly, studying the changes that came over him as he allowed himself to relax his hold over his instincts. This was new for him as well – he had never had a willing donor before. He had never bitten anyone who wasn’t afraid of him or too far out of their mind to care. It was fascinating to study her this way, knowing that it was okay and he could take his time and satisfy his own curiosity entirely. He leaned in to breathe her scent, sighing in pleasure against her, his nose and mouth pressed into her throat. He wrapped his arms around her and simply held her for a time. He felt her fingers in his hair, listened to the sound of her breath and her blood singing to him. His thirst was growing stronger as he allowed himself these temptations, his body veritably screaming at him to take what it had needed for such a long time. He didn’t want to rush, but he didn’t think he could resist much longer.

He was vaguely aware of Trevor moving somewhere beside him, crawling a bit closer and peering at them. His heart was quick – he was probably nervous, uncomfortable with the way Adrian was stroking Sypha, smelling and nuzzling her throat, but he wasn’t protesting and he hadn’t left entirely, which surprised him. He didn’t expect that the hunter would want to watch, but he wasn’t in a position to refuse him if that’s what he chose to do. After so much tension and conflict surrounding this act, he had every right to be present for it.

Adrian’s own breath had quickened, his heart thundering, his teeth exquisitely sensitive. He dared to open his mouth over Sypha’s throat, allowing himself to kiss her skin and taste it with the tip of his tongue. The steady thump of her pulse on his lips was pulling him in, making it hard to hear anything else. The sound her blood made rushing along inside her was one of the most tempting things, the awareness of movement and pressure that would make it spurt into his mouth a siren’s song to his senses. He moaned against her, his body tightening, crushing her small frame closer, selfishly gathering her to himself. His hair swept around them in a blonde curtain. He withdrew so he could meet her eyes once more, seeing only affection and certainty in her gaze. He closed his mouth over hers, claiming her with a bruising kiss. He saw her eyes widen in surprise as he purposely nipped her lip, red welling up from the small point where his fang raked along the inside of it.

He felt every part of him glow with heat and _want_ at the small taste of her. He made a second wound on her tongue before he thought about it, her body jerking rigidly at the painful sensation of his tooth slicing sharply along the underside of the organ. Her mouth filled with blood and he growled softly into her with pleasure. His grip on her was tight, his mouth sealing over hers, sucking her blood from her tongue and lips while he kissed her ever more deeply, possessively. He broke the kiss after several long moments, panting against her, his cheeks flushed, both their mouths stained red. She was trying to catch her breath but had the wherewithal to give him a small smile and put her hand around the back of his neck to let him know she was alright. He could smell her blood on her exhales and it sent a thrill through him to see the way it painted her lips and stained her teeth red. It was incredibly erotic. She was still bleeding into her mouth and he bent once more to suck it away with another kiss before she was forced to swallow it.

This was far beyond what he had fantasized about and he’d barely tasted her yet. His body was brimming, teeming with excitement, stimulation and energy. He felt strong, he was buzzing. He was joyful already at the few tiny mouthfuls of her he’d managed. This was nothing like animal blood, it tasted so much fuller, it was so much _more_. He didn’t want to let her go but he thought it might be more comfortable for her if he laid her out on the blankets and let her head rest on a pillow. In a moment, when he could bring himself to release her from his arms long enough to shift their positions. The wound on her tongue was deep enough to still be bleeding freely. He would need to ensure it slowed if he wanted to try a real bite somewhere else. He kissed her again, losing himself once more in the taste and heat of her, his body arching around her, caging her in. When he broke to let her breathe next he laid his cheek to hers, hiding his face against her hair and ear. He kissed the cartilage and she shivered at the feeling of his lips brushing her, his breath soft on the shell of her ear.

“Adrian,” she whispered and he stiffened, withdrawing from her and catching her eyes in his own, questioning. He hoped she wasn’t disgusted by the smears of red along his mouth and chin, staining his teeth, or the way his eyes were entirely enveloped in red and his aura glowed faintly around him. She’d seen these things before, but it hadn’t been her blood then. He pleaded fervently but silently that she wasn’t going to ask him to stop. He suddenly wondered if he shouldn’t have simply taken her throat straight away, perhaps this was too much and he’d been too indulgent.

But she didn’t seem to have more to say, she’d only wanted him to look at her, to get his attention. She smiled at him, her hand on his neck pulling him down against her again. _She_ kissed _him_ this time, pushing her tongue into his mouth and allowing him to suck away the blood that had collected there. It was slowing now, no longer bleeding so freely into her mouth. The tongue was a tricky spot, it was quite vascular and could bleed a lot from a small wound, especially if the larger vessels that ran through it were damaged. Fortunately he had avoided them and the flow was more a sluggish oozing now. Sypha released him from her kiss, breathless, her chest rising and pressing against him with each inspiration. She was flushed, her cheeks bright, her body slicked in a fine sheen of perspiration. She curled her fingers in his hair and rested her head on his shoulder, taking a moment to gather herself. When she looked up at him she wasn’t breathing so hard, but she was still glowing and smiling at him.

Adrian scooped her up easily – she was all but weightless to him. He laid her down on her back in their soft nest, gingerly placing her head on a pillow and easing her from his grasp. He crawled over her, nipping at her mouth and leaving one small new puncture, just enough to colour her lips with red when he kissed her. He loved the way she looked with her mouth stained like that. It was delectable. He trailed his hand along her body, down her neck, between her breasts and along her stomach to the juncture of her legs, his fingers sliding over the soft nest of curls there. She was slick, a small darkened patch of moisture at her center. The scent was arousal and raw sexuality, but at present he was far more interested in picking an artery to open and finally satisfying himself. The small bites to her lip and tongue were essentially feeding foreplay, and he was ravenously hungry now. His head fairly spun with the intensity of it. He caught sight of Trevor beside him, watching him. He’d all but forgotten about him until this moment.

“Trevor I want you too,” Sypha insisted, grabbing the hunter’s hand and tugging him closer. The idea of sharing her – even with their other partner – seemed hard to wrap his head around. He fought the desire to growl, which would be deeply counterproductive. He was at a loss. He looked back at Sypha, trying to pull himself together enough to think of something other than ravishing her and sinking his teeth into her. He would be willing to admit that his higher faculties were somewhat secondary to his baser instincts at present. He tried to cover her body possessively with his own, looming over her and planting his hands on either side of her. He leaned down to take her mouth again and she put a hand on his chest, gently pressing to stop him. It would be ridiculously easy to simply grab her hand and pin it out of the way, but he wasn’t so lost that he would force her. He resisted the urge to snarl in frustration. He couldn’t take this. It would be cruel to be forced to stop now when he had already worked himself up this way. She offered him a small reassurance, stroking his cheek. “Its alright, we don’t have to stop. I just want Trevor to be part of this, even if he just holds my hand,” she said by way of explanation.

“I can do that Syph,” Trevor said carefully from beside them, squeezing her fingers. Adrian stared at their hands for a long moment, his reddened eyes flicking up to meet Trevor’s. The hunter was showing a great deal of trust and tolerance at the moment and it would hardly help anything to tear his arm off of Sypha or snatch her up and spirit her away to somewhere more private. He let his gaze linger on Trevor’s mouth. Maybe it would be easier to include him. He leaned towards him, nosing his cheek gently and seeking a kiss.

“Uh… shit Adrian, you’ve got a little- you know…” he gestured around his own lips, squirming. Adrian stilled, pulling back.

Sypha sat up, looking between them. She then bent towards Trevor and kissed him very deliberately, opening her mouth against his and making sure Adrian could see their tongues touching. Trevor’s eyes fell shut, his hand curling into her hair and pulling her against him. When they broke apart he was breathing hard, and Sypha grinned. “Now you two,” she urged, gesturing between them. Trevor whined.

“Syph he’s got blood on his mouth.”

“So do you,” she said sweetly. Trevor’s eyes widened and he touched his fingertips to his mouth. They came away red. He looked between them nervously. Adrian seized the moment and quickly captured Trevor’s mouth in his own, lapping away the traces of Sypha’s blood before dipping his tongue into the hunter’s heat and kissing him more thoroughly. He felt the exact moment when Trevor went from resisting to giving in. He softened and let Adrian pull him closer, exploring his mouth, his lips. He dared to run his tongue along the flat face of one fang, but he was obviously still nervous about being bitten and Adrian made no move to try it. This was enough. This was a lot for Trevor, more than he had expected, certainly. He released him slowly, and as an afterthought, snatched his hand and popped his two bloodied fingertips into his mouth, sucking them clean. That seemed to have a profound effect on Trevor, who’s eyes went wide at the sight of Adrian sucking his fingers clean. He inhaled sharply and Adrian laid his hand back in his lap, returning his attention to Sypha, who had resumed her comfortable position laying down.

She seemed very content to have them both with her, and she favoured Adrian with a relaxed smile. “Where do you want to bite me Adrian?” she asked him. His heart quickened. He searched along her body, his eyes lingering on her throat, which was the most obvious and traditional location. He eyed her arm, there were several possible places there, her wrist, inside her elbow, and inside the upper arm. The fact that he could do this – look over her naked body and pick a place to feed from – was awe-inspiring. His eyes crawled across her porcelain skin, considering her breast for a moment then dipping low, between her legs. He was so curious about that part of her, so drawn to it. He traced his finger along her creamy inner thigh, resting it over the most shallow part of the large artery there. He returned his gaze to hers. She nodded to him.

The excitement returned in full force as he lowered himself between her legs, gently easing them apart. His hand was nearly trembling against her. He spread it flat on the blankets to try and steady himself, exploring the expanse of flesh with his nose and lips. The scent of her sex was strongest here. It hung around him, adding something extra to the entire scene. It was the bridge between their intimacy and his hunger. This was Sypha, whom he loved, and who was freely giving this to him. If he could manage to be gentle, maybe it wouldn’t hurt her too much. Maybe she would like it? Perhaps that was wishful thinking; he would settle for her not being terrified. His teeth were quite literally pulsing now, with each beat of his heart he felt them throb, his jaw muscles tight and ready. This was a large vessel, and if he tore too large a hole she could well bleed out on him before he realized it.

He couldn’t wait anymore. He opened his mouth over her and carefully pressed his fangs into the place where he felt her pulse most strongly, every part of him honed specifically to do this one thing which he had denied himself for far too long. The small taste he’d already had was working through him and all he could think was that he wanted more.

“Ah!” Sypha squeaked in surprise and tensed in pain when the two needle sharp points pierced her. Her free hand sought out his hair and gripped it tightly and he knew it must hurt a great deal to endure his fangs. For him it was glorious, the prick that actually broke her open and the fleshy sensation of his teeth sinking in to their full depth, through the skin and fat and into the heat of her artery. It was wonderful not to be met with a mouthful of fur and instead to have the two places where his fangs penetrated well up with heat and the richness of her blood, full of magic and her own personal scent and taste. He slid a hand up her body to grasp at her hip in a way he hoped was reassuring as he carefully eased his teeth free of the wounds and closed his lips over them to drink. He nearly panicked at the intense flow and the way it filled his mouth, worrying he might have done too much damage and she could bleed out. She whimpered when he removed his fangs, tightening all over and shifting uncomfortably in pain. Her hand sought his out, gripping his fingers tightly, her own trembling. He squeezed her hand back, trying to remember that this wouldn’t feel nearly as gratifying to her as it did to him. She was _enduring_ this for him; she wanted it because she cared about him, not because she wanted him to rip her open with his mouth.

He was already feeling an incredible vitality and strength coursing through his being. He was greedily swallowing now, the heady mouthfuls instantly bringing a flushed heat to his whole body, far greater than anything he’d experienced from an animal’s blood. Truthfully, he’d never felt anything like this. Perhaps it was because she was magical, or because she had given herself freely, or maybe it was that he cared so deeply for her. He didn’t know. He was certain only that it was the greatest thing he had ever tasted in his short life, and that he wanted more.

She began to relax beneath him as he swallowed her down, her body shifting under him, her legs spreading open, a pleasured groan working its way through her. He was relieved to know that it wasn’t entirely horrible, and that he was able to make her feel good now that the initial pain had passed. He had his lips secured tightly around the two wounds so he could suck at her flesh in a way that was sure to leave a bruised hickey when he finished. He could hear himself swallowing, gulping, breathing through his nose between mouthfuls so he could take in more of her heady scent. The flow began to subside, allowing him to lave the area with his tongue and examine the already dark bruise he’d made on her. He silently gloated at the thought of his mark on her after he finished – she would be forced to wear it until it healed.

The flow was slowing. He didn’t want to take a chance that he might take more than she could give, so he didn’t suck hard any longer, only pulling what flowed easily from the two punctures. Her body would soon begin to mend itself, and he could help her along if she wasn’t clotting in a minute or two by using a tiny drop of his own blood and licking her wounds closed. Some selfish part of him hoped he didn’t need to – he wanted to see his mark on her. He was so focused on her safety and well being that he missed the way she was looking down at him along her body with a flushed smile, and the way Trevor was watching both of them with affection and worry, petting her hair and squeezing her hand and studying Adrian as he mouthed her lovingly. Finally he was lapping at the two holes less urgently, catching what spilled out and allowing himself to peer up at her and see if she was alright.

“Adrian,” she said, breathless. When he saw her he was nearly overcome, suddenly possessed of an intense gratitude and elation. He swiped his tongue over the bite mark once more, satisfied that it was beginning to clot, and he crawled up her body and draped himself over her, wrapping her in his arms.

“Thank you Sypha,” he said to her, nuzzling against her and kissing her throat gently. He left a red smear where his lips touched her which he quickly cleaned with his tongue. He saw that she still had her own blood around her lips as well so he carefully lapped it away before it could fully dry, leaving her skin fresh and pink.

“You’re welcome Adrian,” she said, smoothing her hand along his hair contentedly when he was finished.

There was a lot going on for him at the moment. He wanted to be certain she was alright, and he was excited to ask what she was feeling. She was clearly affected, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy, her legs clenching together slightly when he shifted against her body. He was nearly vibrating with the sudden influx of blood, feeling it sweep through him in a veritable wave. He knew already that it was healing him. He could feel the burns on his shoulder prickling and itching and he thought the scars might be healing as well, if not disappearing entirely. He was more and more energized, so much so that he found it difficult to lay still – he wanted to run, fight, do _something_ – he felt like he was suddenly possessed of a boundless energy he hadn’t known in many years. He’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to be full and sated like this. It was a contradictory sensation to want to laze and sleep and hold her while he was concurrently ready to run a marathon. His body seemed not to know what to do with itself. And then he felt something that he recognized immediately but had nearly forgotten – his magic returning to him like a crackling flame welling in his stomach, warm and powerful and suddenly _there_ again when it had been gone for so long.

He didn’t know what to do in that moment. He wanted to cuddle with Sypha, to touch her and reassure himself that she was alright, kiss her mouth again and stroke her hair, but he was nearly vibrating and it was impossible to lay still. He felt torn; he was being pulled in too many directions. He sat up quickly, stretching his fingers then curling them into fists, then studying his hands sort of helplessly before looking at Trevor as though he had the answers. Trevor was sitting beside Sypha and running his hand through her hair. He’d been quietly watching them the whole time, giving Sypha reassuring squeezes with his hand, but allowing them to share the act together without his interference. He raised a brow at Adrian’s fidgeting.

“What?” the dhampir asked, squirming under the scrutiny.

“Adrian are you… high? Did her blood fuck you up?” he said with a grin growing on his lips.

“I… don’t know?” Adrian said haltingly, blinking and hopping to his feet too quickly for Trevor to track. “I’m- I have a lot of energy right now,” he paced around, wandering to the kitchen and picking up his teacup from earlier, setting it down and doing another lap around the cottage. He put a log on the fire and sat in one of the comfortable chairs, his leg bouncing. He was very aware of Trevor watching him, and of Sypha smiling at the way he couldn’t seem to contain himself.

“Maybe its my magic,” she suggested, stretching and yawning. “Can you bring me some water?”

Adrian sprang to his feet in an instant, flashing to the kitchen to pour her a cup of water. He appeared at her side faster than either of them could see, crouching down and offering her the cup. “I’m sorry Sypha, are you alright? Are you dizzy? Do you feel okay?” he said in a rush.

She laughed, slowly sitting up. “I’m fine, just a little lightheaded. I’m sure that’s normal. A bit of sleep and I should be as good as new. I’m actually more interested in hearing how _you are_ feeling.”

“Uhm...” Adrian wanted to say he was ‘fine’ but he was really not sure just yet. He thought the surge of energy must be from his full power returning so suddenly. He hoped it would dissipate soon. The other possibility was as she had said – her magic could be having an effect – but he doubted it. If mage blood was something special then vampires would have made a point of hunting them down for it and he knew of no such thing. “I feel… good. _Really_ good. Strong. I forgot what this was like,” he trailed off, looking at his hand. He could feel power surging in him. It was so strange to be able to sense the part of his magic that had been locked away. He had retained some of it the entire time – he could always shape shift, use his speed, levitate – but there were things that were lost to him which he sensed would be in his grasp again. Perhaps not the best things to practice in a house made of wood, seeing as the majority of what he’d lost was based in fire and it had been a very long time since he’d used any of it. He could hardly sit still at the moment – he doubted he would have much control if he attempted to try any spells. That would definitely be an outside activity. He lowered his hand and looked at Sypha and Trevor. He blushed, realizing they were both watching him go through a very odd experience. He could feel his face burning. Actually he felt like everything on him was warm, hot even, which was a strange thing, since he was usually somewhere in the ‘tepid’ range. He was completely flushed, like a human who had just run a mile. He was even sweating. His hair was sticking to the back of his neck.

“Your eyes,” Sypha said to him, holding her arm out in a beckoning gesture. She wanted him closer. He wanted that too.

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” he asked, his hands going to his face as if he might be able to feel what was different. He knew they weren’t red anymore, his thirst had been entirely satisfied and was sleeping soundly somewhere inside him.

“They’re glowing,” Trevor said before Sypha could answer. “Your irises are glowing gold. With a little ring of red around the edges. Also, you should wash your face.”

“My- oh,” he realized that he probably looked a sight still, evidence of his recent activities likely drying around his mouth and on his chin. He’d licked Sypha thoroughly clean already but he had forgotten himself. He’d been trying not to make too much of a mess, but with the bloody kissing he’d gotten a bit carried away. His fingers went to his lips, remembering those kisses. His body tightened at the mere thought of them. Sypha’s blood was incredible, so complex and rich – he couldn’t wait to taste it again. And that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to taste. If he hadn’t been so worried for her and so overwhelmed by her blood he would have bravely buried his face between her legs and finally satisfied his curiosity about the warm wet place there which smelled intoxicating and made him hard just by its proximity. He glanced quickly at the pair snuggled together in the blankets nest, both naked and watching him with amusement and affection. He blinked. "Sorry,” he said, realizing he’d spaced out for nearly a minute with his fingers at his lips, lost in thought. He shifted and found that he was getting an erection as well. Trevor was smirking at him knowingly. He turned from them, leaning his hands on the table and taking a steadying breath.

He was all over the place. He couldn’t focus on any one thing and everything was both overwhelming and distracting at once. It would pass, he was sure of it, but he didn’t know how long it would take.

“Come here,” came Trevor’s voice from beside him. He stood and turned, and Trevor slipped a hand over his shoulder and around his back. He was pulled into a tight hug against the hunter’s well-muscled body. He curled closer to him, letting Trevor squeeze him with both arms wrapped around his torso. A hand slid into his hair, stroking it. He rested his head on the broad shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the familiar scent of Trevor’s skin. The hand that wasn’t in his hair slid to the small of his back, pulling him closer. It was wonderful to be pressed so tightly to him. All of this was wonderful. He just felt so _good_. Whole. Happy.

Trevor relaxed his hold, but kept one arm around his waist. “Lets get you cleaned up,” he said, ushering him around the side of the table to the kitchen area. Adrian obligingly leaned against the counter and Trevor dipped a clean towel in a basin of water, handing it to him. “Wipe your face,” he instructed, and it was clear that he was taking charge because Adrian was too scattered to do it himself. He cleaned his face with the towel, eyeing the pink colour that stained it when he withdrew it from his skin. Trevor wet the towel again and he made a second pass. He was inspected and deemed appropriately clean. Trevor set the towel on the counter and grabbed his hand, leading him back to their bed. The fire was dancing now from the log he’d added, casting wavering shadows across the whole cottage. They flickered over Sypha’s skin. She was on her side, her head propped on her hand. She had one leg straight and the other bent. Adrian could see the marks from his teeth on the inside of her thigh. His gaze lingered on them, a flare of possessiveness and pleasure seizing him at the sight. There was a small amount of blood beginning to scab over and some dark bruising blooming around each mark, but overall it looked pretty clean. He’d been careful. She didn’t look any worse for wear. He really had not taken that much of her blood, certainly nowhere near enough to put her in any danger.

“Adrian,” Trevor interrupted his thoughts and he glanced at the hunter guiltily. He’d forgotten himself again and had been standing awkwardly over Sypha, staring at her leg. Trevor was smiling affectionately at him. “Jesus you really are a little high, aren’t you,” he accused with obvious humour. Adrian gulped.

“It will wear off,” he said by way of apology. “I think its because I went so long without. Everything is just… a lot.”

“Well, I know you aren’t tired, but we are, and I have a feeling we are going to have a busy day tomorrow. Why don’t you try to lay down, even if you can’t sleep. Sypha needs to recover her strength, and I’m tired as shit.”

Sypha shifted over, making space for Adrian in the middle of the nest. He crouched to crawl in, but Trevor’s hand on his back stopped him. He stood back up, giving him a questioning look.

Trevor hooked his finger in the waist of Adrian’s breeches. “Maybe take these off?” he suggested, and Adrian met his eyes, seeing the desire there, smouldering just behind that clear hard blue. “Its got to be horrible to sleep in leather pants,” he said with a crooked smirk. “And they are so fucking tight I don’t know how you even move in them.”

Adrian laughed at that. “I like tight pants,” he said, his fingers starting to work the strings of his fly. “They keep everything from moving around.”

“That sounds awful,” Trevor said skeptically. “There is nothing worse than having your sweaty balls and dick squashed together between your legs. I need room to breathe.”

“I am _not_ sweaty,” Adrian said sharply, pulling his fly open once the laces were undone and carefully working his breeches and silk undergarment over his slim hips. They really were skin tight, and he liked them that way. He was perhaps unwilling to admit to Trevor that he liked them because he knew they looked fantastic on him.

Sypha snorted, laughing at them both. “Stop talking about your balls and get down here, I’m cold. And lonely.”

“Yes ma’am,” Trevor said quickly, adjusting himself as if the conversation had made him think about his testicles and whether or not they were appropriately comfortable at that moment. He crawled into the blankets, leaving space for Adrian between them. It went without saying that he got to be in the middle tonight.

All eyes were on him as he pushed off his bottoms, revealing his long pale legs, leanly muscled and starkly white against the black garment. He rose to his full height, naked in front of them with his long hair fanned around his shoulders, curling at the ends. They both stared at him appreciatively. He stood in place a moment, just looking at both of them with fondness, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t anxious. He wasn’t on the verge of panic. He had not yet examined himself closely, but he could tell the markings had faded some, though they were still there. The long diagonal scar he had received from his father was unchanged but the others were less obtuse, the risen borders a little flatter, the discoloured skin a bit closer to its original pigmentation. He knew they were still visible, and he found that somehow he didn’t mind so much if Trevor and Sypha saw.

Sypha was a bit pale, but she was obviously fine. She stretched, yawning. Her eyes were bright, even though she was tired. Her hair was mussed, sticking out oddly on one side from where she had been laying. Adrian’s bite on her thigh was very visible to him and it only added to her beauty, her flawless skin wrapped around her soft curves, the roundness of her hip, the small swell of her breasts. She was so petite yet there was just so _much_ in that tiny package. Her incredible capabilities, her thirst for knowledge, her sheer _persistence_ in all things was unmatched. She was absolutely the bravest, most fearless person he had ever known save perhaps his mother. He could hardly believe she was real. And Trevor – so much her antithesis – was sprawled in a way that managed to take up half the bed without even trying, his long legs and big feet stretched out to impinge on Adrian’s place between them. He was so thickly built, like a statue, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen defined, even his rear was rounded and densely muscled. But it was the warm smile on his face that drew Adrian, the sharpness of his tongue and the intelligence that flashed in his eyes. Here was a man that knew better how to kill almost anything he encountered than probably any person alive, and he was not perverted by violence or death even though he had seen so much of it. He was good, deeply, and wanted to help others. That was powerful.

How could Adrian possibly deny them anything when they both deserved everything? He would not selfishly curl in on himself in the face of the things that scared him anymore. He was lifted by them, strengthened by their belief in him. He wanted to share everything he had with them. He wanted to protect them. Fight for them and with them.

He could feel power thrumming through his whole body, singing, nearly singeing him from the inside out. It would be impossible to sleep but he was excited to crawl between them anyway. He did exactly that, tucking himself perfectly between each of them, laying on his back and pulling them both against him tightly.

They curled against him. Sypha tucked her head in the crook of his arm, resting her face against his chest and hooking one leg over his thigh. She splayed her hand over his middle, smoothing it along the faded markings that still lingered there. She traced the muscles of his chest and he relished the feeling of her small frame against him. He could still faintly smell her blood. He knew the bite was pressed to his leg and that made him feel like the cat that got the cream; he was nearly preening at the thought of it on her, marking her and announcing what they had shared. Trevor squirmed and shifted to get comfortable, settling for laying on his side, one leg wrapped over Adrian’s other thigh and a heavy arm thrown over his chest. The hunter’s face was beside his, Adrian’s arm tucked between them, his other holding Sypha. He turned his head so they were nose to nose. Trevor’s hair was falling in his eyes, tickling his cheek. Adrian carefully pushed it behind his ear with long fingers. He smoothed his thumb over Trevor’s cheek, then returned his arm around Sypha’s back, squeezing her tightly and burying his fingers in her hair.

“I love you,” he said quietly to them both, kissing Trevor slowly, their lips sliding together. When he broke the kiss they looked at each other for a long moment and Adrian knew Trevor felt the same. He turned his head and found Sypha smiling at them from her place nestled against his chest. She stretched up to catch his lips in the same soft, romantic kiss. “We love you too Adrian,” she said after they broke apart, her hand over his heart.

Adrian didn’t sleep that night, but they did. The fire slowly burned down. The cottage held its warmth and with the three of them tucked together he didn’t bother with another log. His body was still unusually warm anyhow. The influx of energy that had initially surged through him slowly leveled off and he began to feel more calm, less wired as his body adjusted to the way it was intended to be. Eventually his partners shifted and stretched out into more comfortable positions, the room filling with their snores. Sypha was drooling on his arm and she stole all the blankets, twisting until she had greedily pulled them around her. Trevor kneed him in the leg and jabbed an elbow into his ribs twice before somehow ending up flopped half over top of him, sweating on him and snoring obnoxiously.

He watched them both sleep the entire night, occasionally stroking their hair or their skin, amazed that he had them both like this. He laid almost motionless between them until the birds were singing and the sun had risen past the tops of the trees. All he could think throughout the night was that he was the luckiest man in the entire world to have found them both.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. *blushes* I uhh... fully admit that I let myself indulge here. I absolutely love writing blood drinking scenes (shouldn't be a surprise considering the fandom) and I really hope I did this one justice. I didn't want to go overboard and cram too much into it, but I had a lot to say. This was an important development for this fic. Both for our trio's relationship as well as for Adrian personally. I also love how much trust Trevor needed to show to sit through the whole thing and even endure that kiss that made him kinda squick at first. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me to this point! I would relish your commentary, I am just dying to know what you thought of this.


	22. Part Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you had to wait so long, this chapter is stupidly large (is that terrible? Should I be making these chapters shorter??). Its also pretty much all smut so... yeah. If you hate that kind of thing then perhaps skip this one!

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Two**

Adrian may have felt like the luckiest man in the world in the night, but there was no denying the effect that being sandwiched between two unfairly attractive people had on him in that time.

It had taken hours for him to calm down enough to separate his reeling thoughts from his overstimulated body’s reactions. When he first crawled between them he was almost buzzing, still riding the high that came with the return of his power. By the time his companions fell into a deeper sleep and were snoring and drooling beside him it had begun to subside, leaving in its wake a tingling energy and an embarrassing mixture of impulses and sensations that had the blonde dhampir flushed and helplessly aroused.

His head swam with myriad thoughts of blood and sex, mingling in a way he hadn’t dared to entertain before. His vampire side had been thoroughly stimulated by the feeding and refused to lay quiet. He wanted to force it down and lock it away, but he knew that would be counter-productive. He needed to accept that some things he was used to ignoring easily in the past might be harder to dismiss now.

His life was changing; he was involved with human partners both emotionally and physically, and now he’d drunk their blood as well. It wasn’t a surprise to find himself turned on by it. He knew that was a completely normal thing for any vampire to experience. It was only that it felt wrong to him, because he had spent so much of his life trying to go against what came naturally. Anything to do with human blood still felt taboo, especially sexual things.

In the quietest, darkest part of the night when nothing else was astir, Adrian found himself rigid with want. His partners’ familiar scents and their bodies so close against him were both a comfort and a temptation.

It began innocently enough; he’d curiously slipped his hand between Sypha’s legs to stroke the still raw mark left there by his teeth. He could smell her wound. His fingertips played gently along her thigh, caressing the imperfection left in her skin over and over. He couldn’t stop touching it. He didn’t want to. Adrian had never allowed himself to think this way because he had accepted that he did not bite people. Fantasizing about it only made existence unpleasant, but now the floodgates were open and he was damned horny as a result.

He was ashamed of the inappropriate things going through his mind while his fingers stroked the bite and Sypha’s incredibly soft skin. Truthfully he felt like an awkward teenager, like his body was refusing to listen to reason and was just doing whatever it wanted. He was more disciplined than this; he should be able to just ignore it and think of something else.

He tried. He really did. He removed his hand from the tempting injury, dragging his fingers along Sypha’s body, gently running them over the small mound of curls between her legs before withdrawing from her completely. Sypha mumbled in her sleep and shifted, yanking the last corner of the blankets off of him and around herself. The cool air juxtaposed sharply with the heat of his erection, which stubbornly refused to subside no matter how he tried to distract himself. It wouldn’t go away; he was too worked up.

Exasperated, he moved to rake his fingers through his hair but paused when he realized that the scent of Sypha’s body and her wound were on his fingertips. He put them to his face, inhaling the mixture of her sex and her blood and he _shuddered_ , his engorged prick bobbing heavily over his stomach. He clenched his thighs, trying not to move so he didn’t disturb his bedmates. His free hand slid low and encircled the turgid flesh, his thumb playing at the slippery, weeping tip. He stroked slowly, finding himself hypersensitive and more than ready for attention. He resorted to stuffing his hand into his mouth to keep from making noise. Her smell was there still and he was unable to stifle a groan as he tried to take care of his stubborn need as quickly and quietly as he could. He’d get it out of his system and he’d feel better afterwards, he was sure.

It wasn’t difficult to find release, considering he’d been aroused for hours. He tried not to think of anything too shameful while he touched himself; he tried to focus on Sypha’s breasts, her face, and not the little cut on her lip left by his fangs, but it was a lost cause. It was all intertwined and in less than a minute he’d bitten the back of his hand and drawn his own blood because his fangs were straining and his jaw unconsciously wanted to clamp down into warm soft flesh at the moment of capitulation.

Adrian lay still afterwards as his breathing evened out, licking the healing furrows he’d made in his own skin while the uncomfortable puddle where he’d spent himself cooled on his belly. He burned with shame at the wrongness of his twisted psychology and scolded himself for giving in to it.

He found something to wipe himself clean, but he could still smell ejaculate and the tang of his own blood in the air. At least his body relaxed somewhat. He closed his eyes, determined not to lose himself in something like that again. It was only a natural reaction to everything that had happened. There was no reason to dwell on it, or to ever admit to another person that the mere scent of the wounds was enough to make him hard as a rock.

It wasn’t only that. There was another facet to all of this which had taken Adrian by surprise. It was easy enough to control himself _during_ the act of biting Sypha, but he had failed to consider the aftermath. He was acutely aware of a growing compulsion to hoard Trevor and Sypha to himself as if they _belonged_ to him. This conflicted directly with Adrian’s personality, with his view of himself. He wasn’t greedy or possessive. He certainly didn’t want to own anybody, but there was no denying the powerful desire to see _his_ mark on _his_ humans. He despised even thinking it, but it was there in his mind nonetheless.

Oh he was screwed up.

Laying in the dark wide awake and still crushed between Trevor and Sypha did nothing to relieve this uncomfortable revelation. There was no denying the simple, avaricious voice that was clearly his vampire side in its purest form. It was there. It had always been there, he’d just learned to temper it or ignore it when it told him things that went against his beliefs. It was quieter before – more of a whisper – but now it had been provoked and he found himself investing a considerable effort to restrain it.

Adrian was no stranger to this ‘voice’. After all, it wasn’t actually some alter ego whispering in his ear, it was simply an aspect of himself which he found distasteful. It was his hunger. It was the unnatural force which preserved his life no matter how he starved and wasted. He never forgot the cold, murderous thing that he’d first discovered lay inside him during his imprisonment. When everything else was stripped away, what remained was a demonic countenance that wanted to tear something apart and feast. It was a horror, but it had also cushioned his mind when all other coherent thought deserted him, and had receded back inside him once he found sustenance again.

That demon was not only an appetite, however. In the cage it had been too ravenous to be capable of anything beyond killing, but now, fat on the blood of his lover and the return of his full power, Adrian felt it preening and crowing, gloating in delight, and it was difficult not to succumb to its primitive simplicity. Because it wasn’t ‘something inside him’ that was feeling this way, it _was_ him. _He_ was this indulgent creature. _He_ was basking in his two lovers, sated for the first time in a decade, and he couldn’t deny the extreme pleasure of having them both in his arms, trusting and vulnerable and _his_.

He sighed, ashamed at his own feelings. Every vampire experienced these things. And he was only half – it was less intense for him. He just had to learn to cope with it. It certainly wasn’t going to stop.

For the moment, dawn was approaching. The birds had begun to sing and a small bar of light filtered in through the shutters, growing brighter as the minutes ticked by. It lanced over the three of them, making Sypha’s hair glow like an orange flame and highlighting Trevor’s slack face. His lovers. He studied them for the thousandth time since they’d laid down together. They were beautiful, and he wanted to begin this day by letting them know how much he appreciated everything they had endured on his behalf. He was loath to leave the warm nest, but he needed to if he was to get anything done. Already he was becoming distracted; it wouldn’t take much to convince him to remain buried between them for the foreseeable future.

He silently extricated himself from the tangle of limbs. As soon as he vacated the middle spot Trevor rolled towards Sypha, pulling her back to his chest and palming her breast as he tucked his nose into the nape of her neck. Adrian’s eyes raked over them, appreciating the dense musculature of Trevor’s arms and shoulders, the cords of his neck, and the way his face was smooth and expressionless in sleep. Sypha was dwarfed in his arms, her body all pale curves and inviting softness.

That was all it took and Adrian was already growing hard again, his traitorous body rising to attention at little more than the image of the pair sleeping together. What was wrong with him?

He hastily turned away, endeavouring not to look at them as he dressed – carefully tucking his annoyingly persistent erection into his clothing – then went about starting a fire and putting water on to heat for tea.

The fresh outside air helped to clear his head. He made his way to the barn and had a look around. A sticky dark bloodstain pooled in front of the doorway; a grim reminder of the fact that they were not actually on a blissful country vacation despite the quaintness of their lodgings.

When Adrian entered the barn he was greeted by the scents of animals, feed and hay. There was a goat who was desperate to be milked; she was painfully full and wasn’t quiet about it. She didn’t recognize him and they both stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment. He tried talking soothingly to her. She bleated in protest and bit his hand. In the end he managed to squeeze a portion of fresh milk from her, blushing when he gripped her teats and pulled on them because it was wholly unfamiliar to him and because she kept looking at him like he was an idiot.

He set the pail of milk by the door of the barn and entered the roost where several colourful hens were warming fresh eggs in their nest boxes. They clucked nervously as he reached under them, but he managed and he left them some feed in thanks, and after some deliberation offered some to the goat as well because she was still eyeing him dubiously out of the side of her paddock.

There were two horses – healthy, strong animals who were well-groomed and nickered in greeting. Adrian was more accustomed to dealing with horses. He gave them some fresh hay and a few oats from a nearby sack, then returned to the house to see what he could do for breakfast.

He was met with a pair of sharply blue eyes when he came in. Trevor was awake, propped on a few pillows with Sypha still asleep beside him. Adrian gently set his pail of milk and basket of eggs on the table.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, knowing already that he had, because Adrian had watched him do so for hours.

Trevor raised a finger to his lips, looking at Sypha in explanation. Adrian smiled at that and obliged him, falling silent as he poked through the larder. He wanted to ensure Sypha got plenty of calories to replace what he’d taken from her. Truthfully both his companions had been living lean in the past weeks and needed a few good meals.

It was difficult to remember that they were probably not feeling nearly as energetic as he was at the moment. Despite not sleeping in three days, he was acutely focused and aware. Every sense was sharply honed, his body thrumming with energy and vitality. He felt more alive than he had in ten years. His movements were quick – he found himself flitting around at what was a comfortable speed for him – certainly too fast to be considered ‘normal’ if the way Trevor’s eyes were following him were any indication.

He rolled up his sleeves and secured his hair out of the way with a strip of leather then set to combining yeast and warm water with some sugar, giving it a few minutes to bubble before he added in flour and salt and kneaded out a nice wad of dough. He covered his creation with a moist towel and set it in a warm corner by the cooking hearth to rise.

While he was cleaning the flour off his hands he heard Trevor getting up. He nearly forgot what he was doing when his eyes fell on the muscled nude figure stretching indulgently across the room and throwing him a sidelong glance, obviously trying to garner his attention.

It worked.

He appeared beside the hunter in the blink of an eye. If Trevor was at all put off by his inhuman speed he certainly didn’t show it. Adrian found himself pulled into a warm embrace, his body fitting neatly against the well-formed chest. He peppered Trevor with kisses and dug his fingers into his dark hair. He buried his nose against a temple, breathing in his scent. In the back of his mind that simple voice insisted that this man was _his._ He told it to be silent.

“Well you’re in a good mood,” Trevor observed.

“I am,” he said with an easy smile.

He shifted, pressing himself closer. It would be an understatement to say he was feeling frisky. Laying between his lovers the entire night had left Adrian wholly preoccupied with them. The relief he’d garnered by masturbating once was a mere drop in the bucket in the face of his sudden renewed energy. He felt like a horny teenager, finally free from the paralyzing anxiety of the past weeks and the tension between them all in recent days. Now his body was urging him to make up for lost time.

He slid his hands confidently over Trevor’s sides, running them along the chiseled planes of his back. “You were left out yesterday, Sypha and I had all the fun.”

Trevor laughed a little sharply. “I think you had most of the fun, actually,” he teased, and Adrian frowned.

“I am not apologizing for enjoying myself,” he insisted, pulling away from the hunter. “I didn’t do anything that Sypha wasn’t comfortable with.”

Trevor caught Adrian’s waist and shook his head, making his hair swish over his eyes. “You don’t need to be defensive, I was teasing you.”

“Oh.”

Trevor pulled Adrian back against him and smoothed a stray lock of blonde out of his face. “I know I made a really big deal out of the whole biting thing, but... I think I overreacted. All the shit I thought about vampires going crazy over blood seems a bit ridiculous now. It wasn’t like that. Watching you bite Sypha wasn’t what I expected.”

Adrian tilted his head in question. “It wasn’t?”

Trevor shrugged, but he was wearing a crooked smile. “Nope. I thought it was gonna be awful, but it wasn’t. I saw how much you wanted her. You were actually _shak_ _ing_ just touching her, but you only gave in when she offered. You were really careful with her too, considerate of how it felt for her. I didn’t expect that. The tenderness. Not really a word I’d use to describe a vampire bite, but you proved me wrong,” this last was said as Trevor cupped Adrian’s cheek in his large, warm palm.

“I told you I would never hurt her, that I would be careful.”

“I know Adrian, but I had to see it for myself to understand. I can’t say the blood part does anything for me because its kind of gross, but I uh…” he blushed lightly, just a hint of colour coming to his cheeks as he dragged his hand along Adrian’s jaw, thumb tracing his lower lip. “Seeing how good its making you feel is pretty incredible. You’re almost glowing. You’re darting around with this energy I’ve never seen in you before. You look happy.”

“I am happy,” he answered, molding himself against Trevor’s body affectionately. “I feel good.”

“I can see that. I could see it last night too. You didn’t hide anything. And...” he coughed a little, flushing harder. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but it was fucking sexy as hell to see you get all possessive over her when she said she wanted me to join in. Its a side of you I didn’t know existed. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m talking about this,” his ears were burning now and Adrian found himself enjoying Trevor’s unadulterated honesty and accompanying embarrassment.

Their bodies were close enough together that Adrian felt Trevor’s steady heartbeat against his own chest.

“I didn’t mean to behave that way,” he admitted a little sheepishly, remembering how he’d caged Sypha under him and struggled to keep himself from growling at Trevor. “When she asked for you I was already caught up in her, I didn’t want to share.”

Trevor laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I know, but you did. Honestly, you changed my view on the whole thing. I was right before when I said you were a sweet, sensitive guy. You are, way more than me. I spent too much time living rough. I’m selfish and impatient. Self-control isn’t one of my stronger points, but you make it look easy.”

Adrian snorted at the image Trevor painted of himself. “You describe yourself like some kind of barbarian.”

Trevor grinned shamelessly. “I sort of am, if you think about it. Maybe smarter. Barely.”

They fell silent after that, simply enjoying being together for a few minutes. Trevor still had his arm around Adrian’s waist, and he found himself leaning against the other man, listening to his breathing. Trevor’s approval meant more to Adrian than he had realized. It felt really good to receive his complements.

His hands began to explore, sliding over defined pectorals and collarbones. He found himself leaning as close as he could, burying his face into the juncture between the hunter’s shoulder and neck. He nuzzled the enticing spot, running nose and lips over Trevor’s tanned skin, tasting salt and inhaling his scent. He fastened his lips over the fluttering pulse point and sucked gently to create a small hickey before Trevor pushed him off.

“Hey, jeeze, you’re gonna make me look like… like I’m living with a damned vampire!”

Adrian shot Trevor a _look_ , his brow arched, a small smile on his lips.

The hunter studied him for a long moment. “Is that… I mean… does it _do_ something for you? Leaving marks? I noticed how you were looking at Sypha’s thigh last night after you cleaned up. You were just staring at it for almost a minute, like you were hypnotized.”

Adrian couldn’t hide his guilt or the way he shivered bodily at the memory. Still, it was a challenge to admit it aloud. Only someone sick would get off on wounds and bruises. He didn’t expect them to understand how the mere thought of his marks on them was arousing. That was pushing beyond what he could ask of them, but at the very least he intended to be honest about it.

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t… have an effect,” he finally said after a long pause, trailing his finger over the small reddened spot he’d sucked, anticipating the way it would darken and bloom as the bruising set in. “I’m sorry. That’s probably horrible. It makes it sound like I want to hurt you.”

Trevor caught the hand that was stroking the spot on his throat, his fingers closing over Adrian’s carefully. “Well, honestly, I kind of do the same thing, but that’s more to piss Sypha off than for the evidence. I love when she’s mad,” he grinned at his own statement before bringing Adrian’s fingers to his lips and kissing them absently. “Look, we shouldn’t tiptoe around this stuff. The sooner we all understand each other the happier we will be.”

“I really don’t expect you to tolerate-

“I didn’t expect to shack up with a woman who can fry my balls off and a guy that can crush me with his pinkie but here we are. We’ll consider it a kink. Everyone gets off on something, and plenty of the time its something weird,” he gave Adrian a positively lecherous smirk. “Christ knows I’ve got my fair share of perverted fantasies.”

“Y-you do?”

“Of course I do. It’s not much of a secret that I like a little play on control. There are other things too, probably some I haven’t found yet, and some I’ll keep to myself until you aren’t still a virgin,” Trevor began to walk him backwards, keeping their bodies close together.

Adrian let himself be guided backwards as he thought about the things he’d seen Trevor do before. There was one instance that stood out in his mind because it was impossible to forget.

“I remember the morning before we left the inn. With Sypha on the desk. You were choking her...” Adrian could already feel a flustered heat rising on his cheeks at the mere mention of that morning, which hung clear in his memories as one of the most erotic things he’d ever witnessed. He remembered them arguing playfully. Sypha had slapped Trevor in the face and in answer he’d driven into her hard enough that the desk was hitting the wall. He vividly recalled him gripping her throat, cutting off her air until her face was turning red. It was difficult to forget something so graphic. At the very end Sypha had scratched Trevor and made him bleed when she reached her peak.

Adrian felt his back come into contact with the uneven logs of the cabin wall. Trevor put one hand on either side of his head, caging him in.

“You mean the morning you were jerking off under the covers, watching us fuck?”

“I- yes,” this was admitted with a full blush now colouring his face as Adrian recalled masturbating furiously to the unexpected erotic display he’d witnessed.

Trevor pressed himself flush with Adrian’s body, grounding their hips together. Adrian’s breath hitched and his eyes fell shut. He was already sensitive and turned on before Trevor had even touched him. Their topic of discussion was fanning the flames quite effectively.

“You liked watching us together, didn’t you,” the brunette stated, punctuating his observation with another forceful crush of his hips that made Adrian’s body tighten in answer.

Adrian nodded, his eyes still closed, his focus on the sensation of Trevor’s naked figure against him and the hard length poking against his thigh. Trevor’s mouth was on his neck then, his hair tickling his jaw as teeth found purchase on his pale flesh, biting down until their dull edges left little crescent marks in their wake. Adrian felt hot all over. He pushed at Trevor’s shoulder, trying to slow him down. The biting was making his teeth itch in a familiar way and he was certain this wasn’t the time for it. “Trevor, that’s-

The hunter withdrew a few inches, giving Adrian a chance to catch his breath. His heart was racing. Everything had become so screwed up recently that intimacy and sex had taken a back seat to other matters, but there was nothing in the way of that any longer except his own diffidence. He found himself more confident than usual today, thanks to Trevor’s encouragement and frank observations. He liked the way the hunter spoke to him – direct, sometimes vulgar, always honest.

He threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of Trevor’s skull and leaned forward, catching his mouth in a kiss. The hunter’s tongue pushed between his teeth and slid expertly against his own. Adrian inhaled deeply through his nose to take in as much of Trevor’s strong scent as he could. He smelled so _damned good_. It was addicting. His hands found their way to brawny shoulders, gripping for purchase as much as for the pleasure of touching the hard body that was pinning him against the logs. Trevor was running his tongue along the roots of his fangs. Did he realize what effect that had? Was it intentional? He groaned as he felt the teasing pressure over his teeth and gums becoming more insistent, waking his instincts, bringing them to the fore.

He was panting, his body responding readily to the stimulation. He was already hard, the muscles in his belly twitching as a roving hand slid beneath his shirt and traced them. It didn’t take much to get him going at the moment, he was already there after spending the night laying between the two most attractive people he knew. On the contrary he’d been having a hell of a time convincing his body to _stop_ being ready for sex.

“I want you Adrian,” Trevor growled into him, hardly breaking the kiss to speak. His voice was roughened by arousal. He bit Adrian’s lip for good measure, pressing himself closer and attacking his mouth again, ruthlessly taking control of the kiss. Adrian allowed himself to be deeply plundered and explored, doing his best to quiet the desire to nick something with a fang – rather a challenge given that there was a man purposely teasing his exquisitely sensitive teeth and biting his lips. He felt everything sharpening, his awareness of the hunter’s body, his blood, his heat.

Adrian broke the kiss so he could study his partner’s face, searching him, trying to gauge the situation, to ensure he was reading it correctly. He relaxed his control over himself, allowing his eyes to darken towards red. Proof that Trevor’s attention to his fangs was not without effect. The hunter stroked the side of his face slowly, studying him with a satisfied expression before he reached back and pulled the leather tie from Adrian’s hair, sending a blonde cascade sweeping over his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking hot like this,” he said in a low tone, meeting Adrian’s gaze as he smoothed a few wayward strands back into place. “You’re incredible.”

Adrian gave him a sharp smile. “You aren’t afraid I’ll bite you?” he mocked, and Trevor gave him an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

In a flash of movement their positions were reversed and Adrian had Trevor pinned against the wall, his hands on the hunter’s hips. Trevor jumped when his bare skin contacted the logs behind him. Adrian didn’t miss the light tremor that ran through him, or the quickening of his heart. He surveyed the brunette’s reaction carefully, somehow still convinced he would find him fearful, but there was no evidence of that. Quite the opposite. He… liked it? That seemed to be the case, judging by his physical signals.

“Uh, Adrian what are you-” Trevor was abruptly cut off when his mouth was covered, Adrian’s lips closing firmly onto his in a demanding kiss that left him gasping by the time he was released. He panted for breath, leaning his forehead on Adrian’s shoulder. His dark hair was a messy tangle, his body taut. He was hard, his tip slick with excitement. The blonde bravely slid his hand between their bodies, grasping Trevor’s straining prick, curling his fingers around it. Trevor sucked a breath through his clenched teeth.

“Trevor,” Adrian purred, grazing the stubbled jaw with his fangs, careful not to break the skin. “Let me make you feel good.”

“F-f-fuck,” he stuttered in answer, hips twitching, trying to slide himself against the hand that encircled him.

Adrian met Trevor’s eyes and they were a little glazed, his fingers were gripping at the logs behind him for purchase. His mouth was open lewdly and his breathing was ragged. It was an incredibly erotic picture.

Adrian dragged his teeth along the side of Trevor’s neck, mouthing him and making sure he could feel just how sharp and close his fangs were. He closed his lips over the pulse point and sucked hard, leaving another hickey beside the one from a few minutes ago. As he leaned back to admire his handiwork his slid his unoccupied hand along Trevor’s torso, letting his nails lengthen just enough that the points would dig into Trevor’s chest a little. The hunter’s next breaths were disjointed and broken by his shuddering; he was trying valiantly to gain friction between their bodies. Adrian pumped his hand along the hardened length between them, which made Trevor groan aloud.

Behind him Adrian could hear Sypha waking up. The blankets shifted and he knew she was looking at them.

He straddled Trevor’s thigh, enjoying the sensation of the hunter’s heat and hard angles and the way he reacted to every squeeze of his fingers. It felt good to be so close to him. Knowing Sypha was watching them made it better. He fastened his mouth around Trevor’s in an exacting kiss as his hand worked faster between them until Trevor was twisting away from his mouth so he could suck in some air and his hips were jerking forward to meet each stroke of Adrian’s hand. His forehead and chest were gleaming with perspiration.

“Christ that feels good,” he managed, his voice low and gruff.

“Sypha’s watching us,” Adrian informed him with a little smile. He saw his partner’s eyes widen and seek her out over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck me, she never sees me like this,” he admitted with evident embarrassment. Despite this, his whole body got warmer, his heart stuttered and then his hands were grasping at Adrian, trying to find purchase. His head fell back against the wall with a _thud_ that he didn’t seem to notice. Adrian stared at his exposed throat for a long moment, swallowing carefully. He twisted his focus away, glancing over his shoulder to find Sypha’s eyes on them, a light blush on her cheeks and a sleepy smile on her face. She was still laying in the mess of blankets and seemed quite content to let them continue their business unimpeded.

He shifted his body so he wasn’t blocking her view of his hand wrapped around Trevor’s velvety flesh. Human ears would not have heard it, but Adrian was able to detect the way her heart sped up at the sight of them and he knew he’d been right about her enjoying the show. The subtle change to her scent told him that she was becoming aroused.

He was emboldened by Sypha’s audience. He turned his focus back to Trevor, releasing him and slowly lowering himself, sliding down Trevor’s body, trailing his clawed fingertips along him until they rested at his hips. He gripped the crest of each hip firmly and pushed Trevor against the wall, kneeling between his legs. Adrian saw the clouded look in his eyes at the realization of what would come next. There was a strangled noise of anticipation when he dug his claws lightly into his skin.

“Jesus fuck,” he mumbled and tried to move his hips, but they were pinned easily in place by supernaturally strong fingers. It seemed that the more aroused Trevor was, the smaller his vocabulary became. He was almost entirely limited to simple phrases and expletives by this point.

Adrian could smell him, his prick was drooling a clear fluid and the veins on the side of it stood raised and defined in front of him. He wanted it. He was surprised by just how _much_ he wanted to wrap his mouth around the leaking organ that bobbed in front of him. Last time he had tried this it hadn’t gone especially well. He had been nervous and uncertain about so much, both about the act itself and about his feelings, their feelings – really everything. He was still inexperienced, but now he was less self-conscious and more comfortable exploring Trevor’s body freely. He found he preferred this arrangement – being in the position of giving pleasure – he was discovering that he enjoyed that. Somewhere inside himself he was deeply grateful to his lovers, and wanted to make them feel good.

He held the hunter in place by his hips and began to kiss the soft skin on the insides of his thighs. He could feel the throb of the femoral artery beneath his lips and it reminded him of last night, of the exquisite pleasure of pressing his fangs into Sypha. That simple voice inside him which had been unusually loud the entire morning whispered at him to do it again. It would be effortless. There was nothing the naked, unarmed man pinned under his claws would be able to do in his own defense.

Adrian wasn’t about to give in. If he wanted to both drink blood and have intimacy with human partners he would need to get used to this. They were only instincts; they didn’t control him, even if they were very strong at times. His appetite had already been sated and there was absolutely no need to spill blood right now.

He let himself acknowledge the desire rather than shy away from it, then carefully pushed it out of his mind. He could find balance.

It was still a pleasure to be close to the artery and to hear the quickness of blood rushing beneath the skin, to see the blue web of vessels that spread through Trevor’s body. Simply being this close was satisfying in itself. He was surprised that Trevor wanted him to reveal his vampire side like this, that it was turning him on. It still seemed unreal that such a thing could be asked of him – he had never expected such trust from anybody, least of all a hunter.

He moved on from the tempting place, licking and nipping a trail along Trevor’s inner thigh and sucking lightly at his flesh. He resisted the desire to leave more hickeys on him in favour of burying his nose against the man’s genitals and inhaling his scent, the heady, sharp odour of sweat, pheromones and _Trevor_. He knew that must be an odd thing to do yet he wanted it – scent was powerful to him and pushing his face into this place which was such a concentrated source was deeply arousing. He was fully hard himself, but he ignored his own desires in favour of pleasing the man before him and giving Sypha something to watch. He was shy, but not in front of them anymore. On the contrary he loved that they were both watching him and found that it was contributing to making him throb in excitement.

Trevor’s eyes followed his every movement. He licked a slow trail along the underside of his length, finding it warm and heavy against his tongue, and very responsive to his attention. He’d already spent a fair amount of time working him with his hand and he was straining, fully erect and jutting forward proudly. Adrian dragged his tongue over the darkened head and Trevor bucked, trying to twist his hips free so he could move. Adrian held him fast. Trevor’s hands found their way into his hair and he gripped it tight, holding on for lack of any better option.

“Adrian quit fucking teasing me,” he growled impatiently.

The blonde smirked devilishly, intentionally swirling his tongue very slowly along the underside of the head, using only light pressure. Trevor tried again to move and even yanked on his hair, but Adrian was content to tease him. He was feeling a little thrill of excitement at this – he was experimenting with what he liked, what his partner responded to. He could already sense that while his strength, claws and fangs made Trevor weak in the knees, being teased when he was already very turned on was frustrating him. Well, he had no intention of making the hunter unhappy, he only wanted to try something new.

He opened his mouth over the head of Trevor’s organ, being very careful of his fangs. Truthfully this act was not the easiest thing for a vampire to perform – his teeth got in the way and he had to keep his mouth carefully positioned. He used mostly his tongue, sliding his mouth down over the length of Trevor’s cock until he felt himself nearly gag as it pressed into the back of his throat and his nose was filled with the strong scent of Trevor’s dark curled pubic hair. He was rewarded with a long low groan and some very creative expletives. He withdrew his mouth and laved the slickened end of Trevor’s organ with swirls of his tongue. He eased his grasp on the man’s hips to allow him greater movement and soon they found a rhythm, Adrian sinking down over the engorged flesh and Trevor’s fingers digging into his hair.

Adrian was more prepared this time for what to expect when the hunter’s climax approached. Trevor’s breath quickened to a fast pant. His mouth was open in a pleasured expression. Adrian could hear his heartbeat flying and felt small tremors through the hunter’s frame. He increased his pace, bobbing and swallowing around him in a way he imagined would feel good to himself.

“Shit, fuck, I’m gonna come,” Trevor groaned between breaths, fisting his hair and trying to push himself deeper into Adrian’s throat. His muscles tightened, his testicles drew close to his body and then he was grunting and making a pleasured expression and ejaculate was spurting into Adrian’s mouth. He swallowed carefully, his hands tight on Trevor’s hips as he felt the hunter’s body relax, sagging against the wall.

He slowly withdrew his mouth from Trevor’s softening prick, attentively lapping away any remnants of his pleasure as he smoothed his fingers over the light bruises and faint claw marks that were forming over the brunette’s hips from Adrian’s grip on them.

“Holy fucking lord you got better at that,” Trevor said after he caught his breath, favouring him with a satisfied, if drained expression.

If Adrian was to be perfectly honest with himself, he had immensely enjoyed being able to pleasure his lover this way. Now that he was more comfortable with the act itself it was really not terrible. In fact, some salacious part of himself relished the scent still lingering on his face, the taste of Trevor’s spend on his breath.

When it came to sexual matters Adrian thought perhaps he might enjoy a more obliging role. He liked his current position. He liked having something in his mouth, and making his partners feel good. He didn’t have much experience yet to compare, but he was discovering a deep satisfaction in offering pleasure. This realization was new, but he had some idea of what it said about him. He blushed, hiding his face against Trevor’s thigh as if Trevor would somehow know what he was thinking by his expression alone.

He felt a hand in his hair, lazily stroking his head. Eventually he looked up at the hunter, his face still burning. Trevor raised a brow. He tugged on his shoulder to get him to stand up.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to pick now to get shy again,” he said incredulously. He pushed Adrian’s hair over his shoulder and kissed him, carefully avoiding tasting himself by keeping the kiss closed.

Trevor looked between them, where Adrian’s erection was jabbing rather obtusely at the inside of his breeches, making no secret of how aroused he was. He knew he was still blushing helplessly. Trevor grinned wide and brushed his hand over the taut leather at his crotch, making Adrian jump and lean heavily into the hunter’s bare chest. “You’re hard as a fucking rock. Did sucking my cock turn you on?”

Adrian thought his voice would fail him if he tried it, and he was having a hell of a time meeting Trevor’s eyes. He nodded, flushing perhaps even harder.

Trevor’s face transformed into a positively devious expression, seeming to pick up on something that went completely over the dhampir’s head.

“You know,” he said slowly, turning Adrian’s body around so he was facing Sypha. “There is someone here who has been left out this morning, and I really think you owe her some attention.”

Trevor guided him to the blankets where Sypha was stretched languidly, naked under the covers and watching their exchange with obvious interest.

Trevor’s arms came around him from behind, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in a fluid motion. Warm palms explored his chest, fingers grazing sensitive nipples. He hissed at the brief contact but the hands moved on. They slid lower, over his ribs, abdominals, and downwards. Trevor began to unlace Adrian’s fly, making the dhampir’s breath catch when they grazed the sensitive hardness that was taking up all the space in his pants. Adrian wondered if his dick might actually tear his clothing by some inopportune feat of vampire strength, so hard was he straining at the attention.

Trevor closed a warm hand over the obtuse bulge formed by his erection, sending a tremor through his body. He lowered his head, blonde hair sweeping forward and hiding his flushed cheeks and reddened eyes. Trevor brushed it out of the way and leaned over his shoulder, rough voice at his ear.

“Look at her Adrian,” he instructed, and Adrian obliged. He met Sypha’s blue gaze. His mind was flooded with images and memories from the night before, and from the times they had been intimate at the inn. He shivered against the hunter’s muscled chest, trying to grind himself into his hand.

“It would be horrible of you to leave her out, wouldn’t it,” Trevor taunted, hand moving over his crotch in a frustratingly unsatisfying way. Adrian nodded helplessly.

“Then I would recommend that you rectify that immediately,” the hunter growled into his ear, teeth closing over the pointed tip and making Adrian’s breath catch. Trevor slipped so easily into this role, he was obviously suited to it. Adrian was so aroused it was starting to make him dizzy. The way Trevor was talking to him was having a powerful effect on his body. The more excited he became the more easily he did whatever Trevor told him to and the realization made his body twitch with need. He could fool himself into saying that he was just playing along, but the simple fact was that whenever Trevor got like this it made him weak in the knees.

Sypha shared a look with Trevor over Adrian’s shoulder. She had a knowing smile on her lips and a glint in her eyes. She tossed the blanket open to make a space for him, revealing her creamy flesh peeking along the edges of the fabric.

Trevor pushed Adrian’s pants down, peeling the tight leather from his hips and legs. He stepped out of them shakily – his grace conspicuously absent – leaving him naked in front of Sypha with his hardened organ sticking straight out in front of him. He could feel the open air on it; he was already leaking with excitement. Sucking Trevor and smelling him had been extremely arousing. Now this treatment of being stripped in front of Sypha while Trevor talked to him in such a commanding tone was adding exponentially to that sensation.

“Come here Adrian,” she beckoned him down to her side, patting the space beside her. He crawled against her and she threw the covers over them both, wrapping him in warmth.

“I’m going to get breakfast started,” Trevor said, bending to give Sypha a graphic kiss in front of him. His jaw and tongue worked on her, the cords of his neck shifting as he moved. He could hear their lips and tongues making a wet sound. Adrian’s mouth was suddenly dry and it had nothing to do with thirst.

Trevor broke the kiss, nosing Sypha’s temple lovingly. “He’s really good with his mouth Syph,” he said quietly to her, but Adrian could easily hear. He turned to Adrian, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Make her feel good too,” he said before rising and striding naked across the room, snatching up the basket of eggs on his way to the kitchen. Evidently he was going to cook naked breakfast. That seemed like a fantastic idea. Adrian found himself staring after the hunter, his fingers on his lips, mind swirling.

Sypha pulled his attention to her then, rolling partly over him and catching his lips in a slow, deep kiss. Her eyes were bright and she looked well rested. He was happy that she didn’t seem harmed in any way by his feeding. It was reassuring to finally have her awake – he hadn’t had much opportunity to talk to her since he’d bitten her. He wanted to hear her tell him what it was like in her own words.

Presently, however, he was rather past the point of words with an armful of sorceress nearly on top of him.

“Good morning,” she said sweetly, punctuating that with another kiss. Adrian felt her warm center on his leg. He smoothed his hands along her figure, following the swell of her rear and grabbing it tightly to pull her closer. Her breasts crushed against him deliciously. She smelled so good – just the scent of her skin alone made him even harder. She was so light and soft on him, and the heat of her core was like a flare burning against his cool flesh.

He kissed her hungrily, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He could feel the marks from yesterday – one puncture on the underside of her tongue, and two slices around her lips. He would be lying if he said that didn’t excite him. The barest hint of her blood on her breath made him remember what it was like to pierce her and kiss her with it pooling in her mouth. For all that he wanted to be soft and gentle, that memory triggered all of his instinctual urges to possess her at once. He nearly growled, his tongue pressing against the wounds. He sucked the injured part of her lip into his mouth and shuddered at the sensation of the little scab, at the taste of it and the texture. Sypha allowed him a moment of this before she broke away and put a finger over his lips.

“Hey, slow down,” she chided him, kissing his cheek while trailing her finger down his chest. “Let’s try something else this morning.”

“Sorry,” he knew his voice was rough, it gave him away when he was feeling dangerous.

He turned his head to the side, sucking in a steadying breath. Part of him was already planning how he could bite her again, thinking about the taste. He needed to stop. It was too easy to forget himself when she was close and still sporting fresh wounds. He’d spent too long denying himself to control his reaction without great effort. He didn’t want everything to be about blood now. He loved her, not for her blood but for the woman she was.

It was only that his nature was fighting itself. His human side wanted to explore her body. He wanted to taste her center, her mouth and her skin in the normal way, and having her so close was making his already aching cock strain and tent the blanket. But he was not only human. He was also a vampire who had spent a decade denying himself _real_ blood and now that he’d had it he wanted more. It came in waves, one side gaining a foothold, then the other winning out. He wasn’t hungry. There was no need for her blood, but he wanted it all the same.

He felt her hand sliding over his torso, down his belly to the fair patch of curled hair between his legs. His body was rigid and tense under her touch. She rested her palm over him, warm and teasing, but not touching his organ. He looked at her with eyes full of conflicted desires. She smiled gently and kissed his cheek, giving him a chance to compose himself. She seemed to understand what he was struggling with which only made him more awed by her.

His tension eased. He carefully put an arm around her and pulled her against him. He did just as he had when the instincts had surfaced a few minutes ago, near Trevor’s artery. He allowed himself to feel them for what they were, accepted them, and pushed them firmly to the back of his mind. He would not be a slave to such primitive urges.

It was harder this time, but he felt himself slipping back into control after a few moments.

“Better?” she asked, evidently seeing him relax.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully, feeling quite relieved and grateful for a partner who understood him so well.

“Good,” she said gently. “Is it because of yesterday? Did biting me make you want blood more than before?”

He flushed, ashamed and feeling like he was acting like an animal. “Kind of. It should get easier. I’m trying-”

The hand over his pubic bone slid lower, interrupting his thoughts as she traced the length of his erect cock. “I think you’re doing fine,” she assured him sweetly, stroking his flesh with light touches. “You were very gentle with me yesterday Adrian. I’m glad I could share that with you.”

He was finding it difficult to focus on what she was saying while her fingers teased him with agonizing slowness. He tried to push himself into her hand but she slid it back to the earlier position, resting over his pubic bone. “I didn’t hurt you too much?”

Her fingers curled into the hair between his legs, tugging at it playfully as she considered her response. “It hurt, but it felt good too. Don’t worry, I’m still in one piece.”

She kissed his cheek.

“I noticed how much you enjoyed Trevor in your mouth just now,” she said in a leading tone, changing the subject. Adrian’s eyes snapped to hers. They were _glittering_. She smoothed her hand over the insides of his thighs. “I’d like to try something like that too, if you want to.”

Yes, yes he definitely wanted that.

He buried his face against her shoulder suddenly, pulling her fully onto him with ease. She laid over him, her breasts crushing into his chest and his erection poking up behind her, between her legs. He realized that his prick was brushing the hot, wet place at her center. He jerked, his belly tightening, his eyes widening at the sensation. She gave him a devious grin, knowing exactly what she was doing to him as she wiggled slightly. He forgot all about whatever they’d been talking about in favour of rolling his hips. He felt himself sliding between her folds, her moisture slicking over his length.

He groaned loudly, a stunned expression on his face. He could not believe how soft she was, how hot. He grabbed her hips and began to move her against his cock without thinking. She weighed nothing to him, he could move her effortlessly. He couldn’t imagine that there were things that would feel even _better_ than this, he was barely touching her and it was already unbelievable.

“Adrian,” she said slowly, her voice low and laced with something he’d heard in it before, when Trevor was inside her. Her fingers curled against his chest.

He looked at her in question, realizing what he was doing and he let her go, a guilty expression overtaking his features. She sat up on him, her knees straddling his stomach, her slit right on top of his belly. He stared at it, never having seen this part of her up close. Her scent was strong, stronger than usual because she was excited. He could see how wet she was, the clear slippery moisture darkening the hair around her outer folds. He wanted to touch her. He looked at her for permission and she gave him a flushed smile.

“Trevor said you’re good with your mouth,” she intoned quietly, and Adrian’s dick drooled in answer, he could feel it straining in the open air. His hips bucked unintentionally, bouncing her on top of him.

He looked across the room to where Trevor was behind the kitchen counter with a towel slung over his bare shoulder. The smell of sausages grilling had filled the room at some point and Adrian had missed it completely. The hunter was watching them with a smug expression. Adrian felt Sypha’s hand on his jaw, turning his attention back to her. She held him in her grasp and leaned down, kissing him hard, nipping his lips and sucking at his tongue. They broke apart and Adrian was breathing heavily, Sypha still holding his face in place by his jaw.

“I want you to make me come,” she told him, her voice leaving him no room for argument.

Adrian found himself nodding, still staring up along her body. It occurred to him that he had no idea what he was doing, and truthfully at the moment he didn’t care. He wanted anything she would let him have. He knew she would guide him if he was uncertain; she would tell him what she liked.

She crawled up his chest until her center was right over his mouth and nose. His hands were trembling slightly as she placed them on her hips. He held her carefully and inhaled, groaning at the overwhelming scent of her so close to him. Looking up he could see the slight curve of her stomach, and the pale underside of each breast, then past that her eyes watching him in anticipation. She knelt over him, keeping a little space between them so he could get a sense for where his face was supposed to fit before she lowered herself onto it.

He pushed his face against her and breathed in the heady scent of her aroused core, feeling his nose and lips already being slicked in her juices as she relaxed onto him. Somehow his erection managed to get even harder and his testicles almost hurt with how excited he was to be near her this way. He couldn’t help making some low animal noise of pleasure at just her scent. He pressed deeper between her legs and he tasted her for the first time. She was salty – that was the strongest flavour – but there was far more to it than that; it was _Sypha_ completely concentrated and deliciously spread over his face. His hips were rocking into the open air, his cock weeping freely and he found himself gripping her waist to pull her down onto him, smothering himself with her body. She covered his nose and mouth, and every time he managed to drag in a breath it was laden with her scent.

“Adrian use your tongue,” she suggested and he realized that he was just rubbing his face in her, which probably wasn’t doing nearly as much for her as it was for him. He had never even seen a woman’s privates until last night, and certainly he had no idea what would feel good to her. He licked along her slit, paying careful attention to her reaction and listening to her heartbeat and breathing.

His tongue passed over her entrance and he thought that would be the most pleasurable spot, but it didn’t have the reaction he expected. He swiped it higher, and she suddenly mumbled some profanity he’d expect to hear from Trevor and _ground_ herself onto his face. He heard her heart quicken. He repeated the movement and was treated to a similar reaction. Emboldened, he played his tongue over the small nub of flesh between her folds and in moments she was bucking against his face and moaning in pleasure. He pressed a little harder with his tongue and she jumped, stiffening and withdrawing her body. He felt the cold air on his wet face. He blinked at her apologetically.

“Not so hard. It feels better if you try it fast and light,” she said, settling back onto him. He did as she said and he felt her body quiver over top of him. He tried rolling the flat part of his tongue over her flesh, careful not to press too hard. In another minute she was clenching and her hips were twitching and Adrian was _drowning_ in how wet she had become.

He fluttered his tongue quickly over her until she was panting and groaning and nearing orgasm, as far as he could tell. Experimentally, he closed his lips over the area and sucked lightly at her most sensitive place and he was rewarded with her legs clamping down on either side of his head and _squeezing_ as she cried out in pleasure and became rigid all over for several seconds before she relaxed, sagging on him, trying to catch her breath while he quietly and happily suffocated beneath her.

“Oh my God Adrian,” Sypha said after several seconds, now on all fours over top of him. “How can you move your tongue that fast?”

He was looking up at her body still and watching even more moisture leak out of her. He was certain he had never been so aroused in his life as he was beneath her right now, with her pleasure dripping onto his already soaked face. He was cruelly hard, so sensitive that he thought he would likely explode from the slightest friction on his poor overexcited prick.

Sypha looked over at Trevor while Adrian laid quietly beneath her and tried to keep himself from melting into an actual puddle on the floor. “You weren’t kidding Trev,” she said between laboured breaths. “That was fucking fantastic.”

She sat back, resting on his chest and spreading her legs wide so he could see her completely open to him. His eyes fell on her inner thigh, drawn like a magnet to his bite. In the night the wound had bruised more, the two punctures from his fangs were crusted with small dark scabs and the area immediately around them was darkened blue-black with hickeys and bruising. Around that was now a larger, paler ring of purple discolouration.

He thought his heart might stop at the intense feeling he experienced looking at it. That was _his_ bite. _His_ mark. He recalled the heat of her blood spurting into his mouth. The sensation of his teeth in her flesh. The trust she had shown him to allow him to feed from her. His fingers were reaching out before he could stop himself, grazing along the damaged flesh in awe. His mouth dropped open, staring at the mark. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. That in combination with her spread in front of him, sopping wet, her smell and moisture all over his face, and he was desperate to find release.

“S-Sypha,” he said, his voice shaking as his free hand tugged at her hip and he shifted beneath her. “I really need-”

She met his eyes, her expression sated and still flushed. She pushed some hair off his face which was stuck there with his sweat and her juices, then stroked his cheek. “I know sweetheart,” she said considerately, leaning in to kiss him. She didn’t seem to mind her taste on him, she even licked it from his lips. She broke the kiss and eased off of him, dragging her hand over his chest.

He was now able to see his his poor suffering erection which had darkened considerably and was probably harder than it had ever been before. His testicles were tight and full, and there was a trail of glistening moisture along the side of his length which had dribbled from the tip. He didn’t think he could actually tolerate waiting for release much longer. The room around him was starting to feel surreal. She bent and licked some of the moisture from the tip and he jerked wildly enough that his hips almost left the floor.

“Unnhhh,” he moaned loud, his claws digging into the blankets on either side of him.

Trevor appeared beside them, wiping his hands clean on a towel. He was still naked. “I know this is terrible timing,” he said apologetically. “But breakfast is ready.”

Adrian felt a bit like the ground had been yanked out from under him. Who the _Hell_ cared about fucking _breakfast!?_ Could the man not see-

His frantic thoughts were cut short when the hunter lowered himself at Adrian’s side and stretched out against him, wrapping a strong hand around his drooling prick. He was suddenly surrounded by them both, with Trevor lying on his left and Sypha kneeling on his right. He forgot whatever he was going to say in protest. Actually he forgot most of the words he knew at all. Sypha tugged on one of his hands while Trevor began to kiss the side of his face. He could hear the man sniffing him.

“I can smell her all over your face,” Trevor informed him, teeth grazing his lip. Sypha’s juices were beginning to dry on his nose and cheeks. “I knew you would love it between her legs,” the hunter’s voice was rough and low. “I’ve never seen you so hard. I guess now we know you love worshiping cock _and_ pussy.”

Adrian managed to make some kind of strangled noise of assent as Trevor’s words sunk in and his hand slid expertly along his length.

_I guess now we know_ y _ou love worshiping cock_ and _pussy._

The words echoed in his head.

Did he? Did he love that? Was that normal? Was it okay?

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, he was already close and the things Trevor was saying to him somehow sounded so _lewd_ the way he worded them, and Adrian couldn’t help picturing himself actually worshiping their bodies, kissing them and touching them all over. It sounded _exactly_ like something he wanted to do.

_Did sucking my cock turn you on? I’ve never seen you so hard._

It was true. He could hardly stand the realization, but he knew it was true. He loved it. He loved having his face buried in either of them, as deep as he could go. Maybe something was wrong with him. Maybe he was a pervert. Maybe it was some preoccupation with scent and his mouth.

_I knew you’d love it between her legs._

Oh God it was true, all of it.

_I can smell her all over your face._

His head spun.

“Adrian feel how wet you made me,” Sypha said, breaking his circular thoughts by pulling his attention to her. She had pressed his hand against her so he was essentially cupping her sex in his fingers, and he could already feel it. He _knew_ how wet she was, he’d just had his face there a second ago-

“Shorten your claws,” she told him and it took him several seconds to process what she said and gain some understanding of what she wanted.

Oh.

_Ohhhh_.

He dutifully withdrew the claws on his right hand and she took his middle and ring fingers and pressed them to her entrance.

His fingers sank a few inches into her heat and she pulled them out, then pressed them back in further and Adrian actually whimpered at the feeling of her body and the sensation of Trevor jerking him off. He was so close now that he was straining _not_ to come because he didn’t want it to be over. He slid into her deeper and felt her body around him, the slightly ridged texture of her passage, the way she clenched and moved on his hand and how she reacted when he curled his fingers experimentally. His mouth was open in ecstasy, his crimson eyes wide and glazed, hazy red aura hovering all around him.

He looked between them, seeing the way Trevor was studying him, watching him twitch and groan under his hand, bruised marks on his throat from Adrian sucking there. He saw Sypha still flushed from her recent orgasm, guiding his hand inside her and wearing his bite on her thigh.

That was it for him. He’d already been riding the edge and that pushed him over. He came without warning; so hard his vision blanked for a second, his whole body rigid as his testicles emptied and a mess of white spurted from the tip of his cock. He knew he was making a terribly obscene grunting noise that he had never heard come out of his own mouth and he was helpless to stop it.

Moments later he was limp and panting, his eyes hooded and every muscle tingling with satisfaction. Sypha worked his fingers out of her body while Trevor grabbed the towel he’d had before and was wiping ejaculate from his hand. He considerately cleaned Adrian off as well and chucked the towel in some unknown direction. The blonde just laid there with a dazed, spent expression on his face and let them do whatever they wanted while he waited for the world to stop spinning.

Sypha leaned over him to kiss him. He weakly tried to respond but mostly her mouth was moving and he was laying there boneless. Trevor ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it off of his face. They kissed one another in front of him and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, resting.

“Alright, enough fucking around. Let’s eat before it gets cold,” Trevor said after a minute, disentangling himself and getting up to put the food he’d prepared onto plates.

“I’m starving,” Sypha announced from beside him, her stomach growling enthusiastically.

Adrian blinked his eyes open, still reeling and feeling sensitive and tingly all over. He sat up and Sypha brought him a damp cloth, wiping his face and his hand clean before she eased his shirt over his head, helping him put his arms into the sleeves.

He made it into his pants and to the table and a large plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and a few other tidbits was set in front of him along with a glass of fresh goat’s milk and a cup of tea. He could feel both Trevor and Sypha watching him as he cut up his sausage and tried a piece with a forkful of eggs.

“Well that was fun,” Trevor said after a few minutes.

Adrian looked at them both, feeling the blush creeping along his cheeks.

“Did you like it too Adrian?” Sypha asked him, seeing his embarrassed face.

He nodded and gulped his tea, hiding behind the mug.

Trevor was looking at him with a fond smile. He gave Sypha the same expression. “I hope you both know how fucking incredible you are. I’m going to die a happy man after all,” he said, grabbing one of his sausages with his bare hand and biting it in half then proceeding to chew loudly with his mouth open. He chased it with the goat milk, slurping obnoxiously.

Adrian could not seem to find his words, though there were plenty of things playing on a loop in his head. He stared at his plate and picked at his food delicately, knowing that his face was red all the way up to the points of his ears.

A hand on his shoulder startled him enough that he almost choked on a piece of sausage. He looked up at Trevor, swallowing the piece of meat deliberately.

“Adrian you alright?”

He stared at the hunter, feeling like he’d been caught in a compromising position. Was he alright? He didn’t really know. Everything they’d done had felt good. Really good. He’d liked it, but he was confused as to what that said about him. It was becoming clear to him that he had certain... tastes. Proclivities. He didn’t fully understand them yet and it was embarrassing to talk about. He was obviously very turned on by seeing his marks on Trevor and Sypha, but it wasn’t that which made him uncertain. He understood that. What he didn’t fully understand was the rest of it. When he spoke his voice came out in a foreign squeak that he was certain couldn’t possibly belong to him. “I’m fine,” he said, but it came out more like ‘I’m fine?’ and his voice cracked at the end.

Trevor gave him the most disarming smile then, which he was not expecting. He pushed his chair out and strode to Adrian’s side, pulling him up from his breakfast and into a tight hug. Sypha joined the embrace, and they were both holding him between them.

“You can talk to us,” Sypha encouraged him, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger.

Trevor hooked an arm around his waist. “She’s right. Was it too much? I uh… maybe I read it wrong. I should have-

“You didn’t.”

“What?”

“You didn’t read it wrong,” Adrian confessed quietly, encouraged by their supporting arms around him. “It was… exciting. I liked it. The way Trevor talked to me and undressed me while Sypha watched... tasting and smelling you both and making you feel good… I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life,” he admitted softly, cheeks blazing.

“Christ, you can’t tell me things like that or we’ll never even make it to the castle. I’m gonna fu-

“Trevor!” Sypha cut him off.

“What? He said he liked it!”

“Just… eat your breakfast.”

“ _Fine_ ,” the hunter grumbled, but there was no seriousness in his voice. He slid back into his seat to finish his meal, evidently pleased by Sypha’s irritated expression. He caught Adrian’s eyes and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Adrian found there was a little smile on his lips and he didn’t feel quite so embarrassed anymore. There was nobody in the world he trusted more than Trevor and Sypha. There was nobody else he would even _consider_ allowing to know him this way. Since the inn he’d been slowly discovering his own sexuality, albeit with some rather debilitating setbacks along the way. But he had already moved past many of those, and he was stronger for it. He was curious, he found, to learn more about what he liked, and what his partners liked. Hopefully there would be plenty of time for that in the future.

All they had to do was defeat the most powerful vampire in existence and manage not to get killed in the process.

Adrian thought perhaps he would start with breakfast. They could worry about the rest once everyone had a full stomach.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I told you it was all smut. 
> 
> I would love to hear what you thought! Should I add more of this type of content? Is it out of place? Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


	23. Chapter 23

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

  


  


**Part Twenty-Three**

  


After breakfast the trio decided it was high time they took stock of useful items from the cottage. They began to deliberate the pros and cons of staying another night as they combed through the larder and pantry for supplies. Trevor disappeared outside, determined to find some kind of transportation. He was adamant that there had to be a better option than walking for another four of five days.

  


As it turns out, there was a small wagon behind the barn in good repair. It wasn’t as large as the one they’d left at the Belmont Hold, but it was miles ahead of traveling on foot. Between that and the two strong horses in the barn, it seemed like their transportation problems were solved.

  


Sypha and Adrian remained inside, collecting foodstuffs and blankets for the journey. Adrian kneaded his dough for a second time and formed it into two loaves. He set it aside to proof once more.

  


The blonde had found himself in something of a pleasant fog since breakfast. He still felt the hum of his renewed energy but his body was relaxed, sated by the intense pleasure he’d experienced between his lovers. He knew he was wearing a silly little smile. He could still smell the traces of their activities on his face and fingers, even after thoroughly washing both. His body was just on the verge of arousal, despite there being literally _nothing_ happening to provoke that reaction. He liked the feeling. He could get used to that feeling.

  


Sypha was arranging his damaged clothing over top of a small circle she’d drawn from memory. Adrian watched her work as he packed some cheese, fruit and spices. His mind wandered back to being beneath her, being buried between her legs. He wanted it again already. It had barely been an hour but he felt like he was more than ready to do it all over again. Maybe there would be time later, after they finished preparing to leave. He couldn’t seem to stop the steady string of fantasies that he was imagining. Some were about the things they'd already tried, others were of the unknown. He had so much to learn, and possibly very little time in which to do so. There was a sense of underlying urgency about the whole thing, as well as an anxious sort of anticipation.

  


He was still a virgin. He was a twenty year old man in a relationship with _two_ people, but he was still a virgin and he fairly blushed at conversations about sex. He had hardly been able to meet their eyes at breakfast, still reeling with an odd mix of embarrassment and exhilaration at what had happened between them that morning.

  


Adrian had a strange relationship with his own sexuality – that is, he had mostly tried to ignore it until recently. It felt wrong to even _imagine_ sex before. Like it was inappropriate for him to do so. It’s not that he felt he didn’t deserve sex, or that there was anything wrong with having it, rather he knew he was unlikely to find a willing partner that understood him. And he hadn’t been interested in something casual or meaningless; that didn’t appeal to him very much. He’d spent the majority of his life trying to get rid of the urges through distraction or expedient masturbation whenever the need was too great to go away on its own.

  


As a child Adrian did not have any peers going through the same things he was – he was the only dhampir he knew of. Puberty started around six years of age, and got into full swing by the time he was seven. He’d spent a lot of time as a wolf, running until he was too tired to be horny because he didn’t know what else to do. Once he’d come across a female wolf in estrus and had seriously considered mounting her, but in the end he’d run in the other direction, all the way back to the castle to his room. There he broke down and started touching himself because he thought he would go crazy if he didn’t find some relief. He felt better afterwards, so he simply incorporated the practice into his normal life, considering it a problem solved.

  


To say that Adrian was a little naive and sheltered about sexual matters would be an understatement. He was in completely foreign territory. Despite that, he had managed to attract _two_ partners, and things were going well between them all. This morning had been as exciting as it was scary. He couldn’t help thinking about it, replaying it in his mind. There were a lot of different things that happened in that short time, including some discoveries about himself that he wasn’t so sure about yet.

  


Adrian loved the way being with Trevor and Sypha made him feel. They trusted him and understood him. He didn’t need to worry about pretending to be human with them. They didn’t care if his claws grew sharp or if he moved too quickly for them to see. They were not scared of him in the slightest, even when his instincts made him behave oddly, like they had this morning. Seeing and tasting his marks on Sypha’s lips was an instant turn-on that caught him off-guard and triggered more than only a sexual response. Every other thought in his head had taken a back seat to that for a minute, but Sypha hadn’t recoiled or hesitated. She talked to him about it and gave him a chance to regain control. She sought to better understand, but all the while she’d been pressed against him and her hand was teasing him, tracing along his erect cock and making him twitch under her fingers. The mixture of her fearless acceptance combined with her touch left Adrian in awe of her. The experience was precious to him, and he wanted to please her.

  


And he had. He had pleased them both with his mouth in an unexpectedly erotic turn of events. A simple conversation with Trevor had somehow turned to the topic of kinks – and more specifically – Adrian’s obvious fascination with leaving marks on his human partner’s skin. He hadn’t fully confessed how deeply the bites and bruises excited him, but he had at least admitted something to that effect. And Trevor had called it a kink.

  


Kink. The term was so ridiculous he couldn’t _think_ it without discomfort. It seemed so… undignified. Shameful. Something he wouldn’t want anyone else to know about. What was a kink, exactly? A fetish? An aberration? A peculiarity that made him react with excitement where others would feel nothing of the sort. A perversion.

  


Vampires were carnal, sensual creatures. Humans were as well, to be fair. Adrian was a blend of the two, but he was a fairly reserved person and he certainly didn’t think he was a pervert. He would never describe himself as ‘kinky’. His self-image was far more chaste – he imagined himself as a protector of others, like a knight. As such, he tried to behave appropriately, and to treat others with respect and consideration; he did not like to be too forward or too harsh. That picture didn’t leave much room for the things he was beginning to discover about himself.

  


So it was disconcerting to admit how aroused he was by seeing his lovers wearing his marks, although such a thing was perfectly normal for vampires. Even some humans – like Trevor – admitted to enjoying the practice, context aside. But the rest of it… the rest was a surprise. He hadn’t expected his own reaction to being put on display as he was stripped and fondled. The way Trevor spoke to him – _ordered_ him – was replaying in his head and keeping him just on the verge of getting hard all over again.

  


His own realization that he was extremely turned on by having his face and mouth covered in the scent of Trevor’s genitals and ejaculate wasn’t helping matters. He’d loved the taste and smell of them both so much he wanted to sink to his knees and beg them to let him do it again. The idea of pleasing them or servicing them was deeply appealing. Why did he like it so much? What was it about that scenario that made him so… so _hot_?

  


He wanted more. He wanted to know more about all of this. He wanted to make them both feel so good they came under his tongue and then he wanted to lap up the evidence. He wanted Trevor to order him around and say lewd things to him, and he wanted to almost suffocate between Sypha’s legs. He imagined himself pleasuring them both, slicked with their fluids, getting it in his hair, on his face, in his mouth. He even imagined doing all of it wearing the blindfold again. While it had been overwhelming before, he would be willing to give it another try when he wasn’t so thirsty and knew it would be more fun. The idea of giving up some control to those he trusted, of pushing his own boundaries and self-control appealed. The possibility that blood could be mixed into that play was equally appealing, although that was not his main focus at the moment.

  


What on earth was wrong with him? Normal people didn’t want to be treated like that. Normal people didn’t think it was exciting to be ordered around and humiliated that way. He hadn’t even had regular sex yet!

  


But the possibility was open to him now. He knew he could, and probably would, have sex with Trevor and Sypha before too long. That opened up a whole slew of other questions. What was his role in that situation? What was expected of him? What could he ask for?

  


He knew he wanted to be inside Sypha, and he suspected she wanted that too. She had been so wet… so hot, she smelled _fucking incredible;_ he could grab her right now and just… put his hand inside her, put his mouth on her, bite her, lick her, make that groaning noise of satisfaction he’d heard from her earlier happen again. Would she really want him to make love to her, or was she already satisfied by Trevor? What if she didn’t like how he felt inside her, or if he was bad at it? What if she got pregnant? What if he wasn’t careful enough of his strength and she got hurt?

  


Would Trevor _let_ him have sex with Sypha? Perhaps a silly question, but he was still trying to determine how he fit with them, and what his role was. The pair were already together before he joined them; they had shared a lot without him and already had sex plenty of times. He felt awkward about his position – he didn’t know what was okay and what crossed a line. Trevor had never given Adrian any indication that he minded one way or another what he and Sypha shared. Maybe they could have sex anytime they wanted and he wouldn’t care. Obviously it would make the most sense for them to discuss this together, but how to begin that conversation when he didn’t really know what he was asking?

  


How the hell was a threesome supposed to delegate roles? Did one person take the same role all the time? Was Trevor… in charge? Was he only assuming that position because Adrian was inexperienced? He clearly had no compunctions about giving out instructions (orders) in the heat of the moment and he was also possessed of some ability to read the situation. He seemed to have an intuition about these things. He recognized some of Adrian’s own proclivities before he himself realized them. He’d ‘guessed’ that Adrian would respond to his commanding tone and to being displayed for Sypha and he had been very much correct. Adrian felt like Trevor was far wiser about these things than he was. The man understood sexuality on a variety of levels. He was confident and relaxed. He asked for what he wanted and was open to experimentation and play. He was very playful, in fact. Adrian was so much more serious, more hesitant in these matters. He was still learning about all of this and he didn’t know where he stood. Would he need to ask Trevor for permission to be inside Sypha? Were all of them equals in this?

  


And… what about other kinds of sex? Men could have sex too… Adrian unconsciously stiffened at this, knowing that he was missing a lot of information. He might be ignorant to the fine print, but he knew what was involved and failed to see the appeal of anal sex. It seemed kind of gross and painful. Maybe he should ask Trevor about it. An embarrassing prospect, but he was curious, and he knew the hunter was easy to talk to and wasn’t shy about much of anything. Did Trevor want to do that to him? Trevor was far more assertive than Adrian himself was and it was easy to imagine that he would want to be the one doing the uh- _penetrating_ in that scenario. If nothing else Adrian’s body was extremely tough, so even if it hurt at the time, he would be unharmed. That being said, he didn’t especially like the idea of having to endure something painful that didn’t feel good. Maybe Trevor didn’t want that at all, and they would just share Sypha.

  


He had no idea how this was supposed to work and the more he thought about it the more questions he ended up with.

  


He raked his fingers through his hair, taking a steadying breath and trying to reign in his wild imagination. This was getting out of hand. At this rate he wasn’t going to last the morning without needing to find somewhere to relieve his building tension at so many sex-themed thoughts. It was maddening. He should probably try to think of something else for now, lest the edge of arousal he was feeling became stronger and he ended up walking around with a hard-on indefinitely.

  


Sypha had finished repairing his torn and burnt clothing and was looking at him strangely. His eyebrows rose in question.

  


“You’re doing it again,” she said with a smirk.

  


“Doing what?” he asked, trying to keep the blush off his cheeks.

  


“You zoned out for a few minutes. You’ve been holding that wheel of cheese in your hand the whole time. What’s on your mind?” she came around the side of the counter, taking the food from his grasp and setting it with the other items he’d packed for the road.

  


“Just thinking about this morning,” he admitted, looking down at their hands. Sypha’s rested over his own on the counter top. He twisted his palm, lacing their fingers together. He met her eyes and brought their clasped hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “I’m a little… lost,” he admitted after a moment.

  


“What do you mean?”

  


He worried his lip, releasing her hand and resting his palms on the edge of the counter. “I don’t really know what I’m doing Sypha. You and Trevor are so much more experienced and I’m… not.”

  


Sypha broke into a bright smile, the apples of her cheeks round and full. She laughed. “Relax, sex is supposed to be fun, and sometimes experimental. You’ll learn as we go.”

  


Adrian tried to let go of his many swirling questions but it was a challenge. “There might not be very much time – I feel like I have to catch up while I have a chance.”

  


Sypha’s expression grew more serious. “You can’t rush these things. What is it you feel like you need to catch up with? You already have us and we both love you; the hard part is over. Now its just learning what we all like and how we can all please each other – that’s the best part. Are you not enjoying it? Is something from this morning bothering you?”

  


“No… I liked it, I said that before.”

  


“Then what’s wrong?”

  


“I want…” he trailed off, looking at the little pile of supplies he had put together on the counter. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

  


“Yes you can, you’re just nervous. You don’t need to be. You can always talk to me,” she encouraged.

  


He felt his face getting hot as he looked at her. “I- I want to have sex,” he managed to say before his voice failed him and Sypha gave him a devilish grin. He was gripping the edge of the counter top hard enough that the wood split in his hands. He withdrew them, looking at the sizable lengthwise crack left by his overly tight hold.

  


Sypha drew closer, standing on her toes so she could reach his lips. She gave him a slow, thorough kiss which left him breathing hard and leaning closer to her. “I want that too,” she said sweetly, stroking his hair. “There’s time, don’t worry. And you really don’t need to be anxious about it, its just Trev and I.” She studied him for a brief moment then smirked. “I doubt Trevor can keep his hands off you much longer anyhow, especially after this morning.”

  


Adrian’s eyes widened at that and Sypha smoothed her hand over his rear and laughed. “Try not to look so horrified. He’s a very good lover, even if he is incredibly impatient,” she squeezed his ass cheek indulgently. “He’ll push your boundaries, but he will respect them, and so will I. You’re in good hands.”

  


He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body tightly. “Thanks Sypha.”

  


“You’re welcome. Oh, and here are your clothes, good as new,” she pressed a bundle of black into his arms and he took it them thankfully.

  


“Let’s go see if Trevor’s mastered the Morning Star yet,” she said, pulling on her outer robe and making for the doorway.

  


Adrian licked his lips, his eyes following her across the room.

  


“Are you coming?” she asked when he was still standing in the same place several moments later.

  


“Coming,” he answered, slipping the long black coat over his shoulders. He tugged the soft leather gloves over his fingers, stretching them experimentally. They were flawless. Adrian fastened his sword at his hip and followed Sypha from the cottage, blinking in the bright sunlight. Somehow his head was even fuller now than it had been before he’d said anything to her.

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

  


Trevor was on the grass behind the barn with his new weapon in hand, moving through a series of familiar steps. Adrian had seen him practice before, but never with the Morning Star. He found a shady spot under a tree to watch from, noting the man’s intent focus on his movements. Trevor was surprisingly light on his feet for his height. He seemed to dance, weaving the chain between his hands, around his arms – the whip was a very involved weapon. It required a lot of precise timing, judgment of speed and weight to wield, and still more skill be successful in hitting a target, especially multiple targets in succession. It would be easy to get tangled or trip on the chain if it wasn’t managed properly. It was interesting to see how Trevor used his arms and upper body to control it. Despite being new with the weapon, he already looked like handling it came easily to him.

  


Sypha was watching as well, but after a few minutes she rose and approached Trevor, making sure he saw her so she didn’t accidentally get knocked by the deadly flail. She sank into a ready stance and positioned her hands in front of her, summoning several sharp looking ice lances. Trevor nodded slightly to her and she began to launch them at him.

  


He was on the defense in the blink of an eye, smashing the ice from the air before it could strike him. Sypha increased the number of projectiles, shooting them in pairs, and even threes. The hunter didn’t miss a single one, expertly deflecting or destroying the ice as it came into his range. She began to throw more erratically timed attacks, trying to confuse him by changing the speed, size, and direction of the ice. He took it all in stride and made it look easy.

  


Trevor was not a supernatural being. He was a normal human. His only enhancement was his ability to sense monsters, thanks to being a hunter. All of his skill, ability and strength were hard-won through his own efforts. Adrian had a deep respect for this, because it seemed impossible to him. He had always been supernaturally strong, powerful. Even Sypha was magical, but Trevor was a normal man who was simply very adept with his weapons. He was resourceful and determined.

  


Adrian watched him work harder, stepping up his game as Sypha began to overwhelm him with her ice attacks. He deflected them at an astounding rate, and before long the ground around him was littered with melting shards of crushed ice. He started to move on the offense, using the weapon to force Sypha backwards, keeping her from being able to summon the next attacks as easily.

  


Sypha was by and far the most skilled and capable mage Adrian had ever met. She could summon ice and fire seemingly effortlessly, and he had watched her perform numerous other spells as well since meeting her. Even though Trevor was forcing her back, her attacks didn’t stop. When one tactic became too predictable she would switch it up. She even used gusts of air to derail the deadly flail before it could strike her, and once she pinned the chain of the Morning Star to the ground with an icy lance, arresting the strike before it could land and forcing Trevor to drop the pommel as the chain suddenly jerked out of his hand. He didn’t miss a beat, quickly drawing his other whip and forcing her back so he could retrieve his primary weapon.

  


After about twenty minutes of back and forth they were both slicked in sweat and panting hard. Adrian was contentedly lounging in the shade, watching them but also playing with his sword. His control with the weapon had always been excellent. It responded instantly to his thoughts and flew at his targets like a deadly, silent phantom, slicing anything he directed it to into ribbons. He felt the connection to the weapon easily, the humming reach of the spelled metal like an extra limb, an extension of himself.

  


He hopped to his feet and began to move and twist with the weapon, sometimes holding it directly, sometimes using his mind. He saw that he was drawing the attention of his partners, and eventually they banded together and started to spar with him.

  


“Do you think you can take us both?” Trevor challenged, and Sypha stepped up beside him, her hair swaying in an unseen wind as magic floated around her.

  


Adrian’s eyes flashed and he relished the challenge, quickly flying forward, sword at the ready. He laid into them hard, finding that Sypha was staying out of his range, providing Trevor cover with her fire and ice, keeping Adrian from getting too close. He worked to divide them, busying Trevor with his sword and opting to challenge Sypha directly in the hope that he could neutralize her quickly.

  


She proved to be very good at keeping him from her. Each time he approached he was met with walls of fire or ice. He got better at predicting and avoiding these defensive maneuvers, but just as he began to gain on her she blindsided him with one of the holy spells she had practiced on him the previous evening. He found himself frozen and blinded and when he came back to his senses Trevor had the point of his short sword jabbed between his shoulders, and Adrian was forced to admit defeat.

  


“Sypha that spell is fucking awesome,” the hunter said, withdrawing his weapon and letting Adrian stand and dust himself off. Trevor pulled a leaf out of the blonde’s hair and flashed his teeth in triumph. Adrian curled his lip and snorted in mock irritation.

  


“I think I could enchant a weapon with it,” she answered. “I haven’t learned how to do weapon enchantments yet, but I know it’s possible. I’ll look into it. There were some books in your family’s collection about it but I didn’t get a chance to read them through.”

  


“If you could do a dagger or two it would be really handy. Are you up for one more?” Trevor asked, directing his question to them both.

  


“Of course,” Sypha answered quickly, and Adrian wasted no time readying his blade to meet their first wave of attacks.

  


He was more careful to watch for the signs of holy magic this time around. He wasn’t willing to be defeated twice in one afternoon, especially not twice by the same method. He noticed he had slightly more speed and strength than he had before thanks to Sypha’s blood in his veins, and he drew from it as he skillfully danced out of the way of most of their strikes. A few times he met them head-on, smashing an ice lance clean out of the air with a well-placed kick in once instance, and meeting Trevor’s whip with his sword in another. The chain wrapped around his blade and he jerked it, trying to pull Trevor off-balance. He was ready for the move and quickly counterattacked with his other weapon. Adrian evaded the second strike and whirled on Trevor with a flurry of attacks until Sypha forced him away with fireballs.

  


They went back and forth like this until Adrian emerged victorious, gleefully crushing his boot into Trevor’s chest while his blade hovered at Sypha’s throat.

  


It was good to expend some energy and fight; sometimes he forgot how much he enjoyed it. He might be all kinds of uncertain where their evolving relationship and sexual activities were concerned, but on this field he was well-versed and confident, not to mention skilled. He was invigorated by such activities and appreciated that both his partners seemed to have an equal taste for them. They presented him a decent challenge, although he had to be careful not to kill them with his attacks at times. That did not mean he found victory easily, because he didn’t, especially when they fought as a pair.

  


“Get off me,” Trevor wheezed, and Adrian gave him a haughty smirk before slowly releasing him and recalling his sword to it’s sheath.

  


“That was fun,” Sypha said, catching her breath and wiping sweat from her brow. “But we’re all holding back.”

  


“Well we can’t exactly kill each other over a spar,” Trevor pointed out, fingering the Morning Star. He couldn’t very well use it on either of them without risk of doing serious harm, just as Sypha needed to be careful with her magic, and Adrian had to rein in his strength. Where were the night creatures when you needed them for target practice?

  


“Adrian what about your magic?” Sypha asked. He knew she’d been dying to see some evidence that all the stress about his drinking her blood had resulted in more than an overactive libido – not that she seemed to mind that part – but he had yet to try.

  


He found himself nervous. Not for any good reason, just sort of of generally anxious about trying it for the first time in so long. Would he remember how to do anything right? Had he forgotten what his father taught him?

  


“Yeah come on Adrian, lets see this magic we’ve heard so much about,” Trevor challenged, looping the chain of his weapon up before tucking it at his belt. He was still catching his breath and his hair was sticking to him with sweat.

  


“Alright,” he obliged.

  


He stepped a few paces away from them and considered the warm thrum of power that he felt most acutely in his gut. He wondered how it felt for Sypha, where she drew from. They had never talked about it before. For Adrian it was his middle. He relaxed and focused on summoning the flames which he knew lay inside him. They seemed unwilling to be more than a warm crackle, however. Even with concentration he was unable to reconnect with his magic. Though he could feel it, it would not submit to him.

  


He used to practice this regularly with his father, calling and manipulating the deep, hellish flames with ease, but he found that without use the skill had atrophied, and he was only able to summon a small wreath of fire for a few seconds before he lost control and the flames winked out.

  


Irritated, Adrian frowned and had to work to silence his mind’s whispering that he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. He couldn’t undermine himself like that, it would be very counterproductive.

  


“That’s all?” Trevor said, evidently unimpressed by the display. Sypha punched him in the arm. “Ow! Jeeze Sypha that hurt!”

  


“Let him concentrate, Belmont. Its been a long time since he used this, remember?”

  


Adrian peeked from one eye and saw Trevor rubbing his arm, looking at Sypha with an appropriately chastised expression. He smiled to himself and saw Sypha watching him intently, fascinated by even the small demonstration he’d managed, but obviously expecting more.

  


He’d barely made the grass at his feet wilt before he lost his hold on the flames. He was determined however, and tried a second time. He relaxed and tried to find the place in his gut where his power slept.

  


Again he went through the steps, breathing slowly, concentrating on the well inside him that he knew was both deep and powerful. As he did this his mind drifted slightly, recalling memories of the past.

  


“ _Father it’s too hard,” a younger version of himself complained, impatient with his lack of success at this latest exercise in futility. He had been trying for the entire evening to produce more than a meager facsimile of the example his father provided, but it was no use. Every time he got close to tapping the deep vein of energy that was supposed to be inside him he became distracted, and lost his grasp over it._

  


_A large, clawed hand came to rest reassuringly on his shoulder. His father sank down, squatting beside him so they were face to face. He looked into the calm burgundy eyes, his face pinched with anger. Father made it look so easy, he didn’t understand how hard it was to do these things!_

  


“ _Adrian, you are too worked up. Magic takes the path of least resistance. It flows like water. Your feelings are getting in the way, blocking it. You won’t be able to control your magic unless you are calm. There is no place for anger or doubt when you are wielding magic like ours. You must be confident and still.”_

  


_Adrian pouted, his plump lower lip protruding cutely and his arms crossed over his small chest. “I can’t do it Father. I don’t know how.”_

  


_Ever patient, Dracula shook his head. “None of that talk, you know I won’t tolerate it. You are a prince and my son. You are more powerful than you know, and you certainly_ can _do this. Think about when we learned to become wolves. Remember how it felt when you met the soul of the wolf for the first time? You had to be calm, you had to find it inside of yourself. The wolf wont submit to you unless you are certain of yourself. The wolf respects power and confidence. This is like that. Its in you, but you can only access your magic when you are sure of yourself, and still. Our magic is based in chaos; in order to harness it successfully we must be the opposite of that. Chaos is a wild, unruly force of nature, but_ you _can manipulate it, direct it. Lets try again.”_

  


_Young Adrian thought about what his father was trying to explain to him. He thought about meeting the wolf for the first time. The wolf was wary of him, unwilling to submit to him until he wasn’t scared. Once he knew with absolute certainly that the wolf was there he had been so excited to take its shape that he had put all of his energy into mastering the skill. It had taken several days of practice, but in the end Adrian’s determination and persistence were rewarded. The first time he’d actually_ become _the wolf he was so stunned that he’d tripped over his own paws and crashed snout-first into a tree. The change in perspective and sensory input had been daunting. The simple, wild soul of the wolf was alongside his own consciousness in his mind, like a companion that he shared his body with when he took that shape. It took some time to get used to the it, and still more time for the transition to be seamless and effortless, but it was now, and it had only been a few months. If his father believed that there was magic inside him, then he knew it was true. Father was brilliant and terrifying. He was ancient, and he was rarely wrong about these things._

  


_Adrian pushed his wavy blonde hair out of his face and sucked in a breath. It was hard to find stillness. Father talked about it like it was so easy, but he had millennia of practice. For a barely six year old boy such things required a far greater investment in skills he hadn’t yet begun to master, but determination is a powerful motivator, and Adrian was nothing if not determined. He wanted Father to see how capable and strong he was. He wanted his father to be proud of him. He could do so many things, and often he could do them better than the other vampires he’d met, even at his young age._

  


_With renewed confidence, the young dhampir tried again. He closed his eyes. He sought out the wolf first, brushing his consciousness with its wild heart briefly, gratified by its immediate response which had become second-nature in a very short time. The wolf was always ready to come forward, but for the moment he simply acknowledged it then moved on, trying to find the stillness, certainty, and calm his father had described. He visualized himself motionless, breathless. Only the steady drum of his heart accompanied him on his journey inside himself in search of what lay deeper. He felt other things too: the soul of the bat, which he was starting to get the hang of, and the elusive mist, which he was still working on holding for more than a moment or two. He felt something more primal as well, something darker and hungrier than those things, something which had always been with him, part of him, which was strongest when he was hungry, or angry._

  


_He touched on that, feeling his claws grow sharp and his desire for blood flare. He nearly lost his concentration at this, but he knew there was more here, that he needed to look deeper into this part of himself. Carefully, delicately, he explored his own darkness, sifting through the urges and primitive instincts and all the while reminding himself that what he searched for_ was _there, he only had to find it._

  


_And he did._

  


_Deep, buried under many layers of himself, was a warm, dark_ pulse _which fairly exploded at his provocation._

  


_The acrid smell of brimstone burned in his nose as sinister flames erupted all around the boy, engulfing him suddenly, flaring dangerously around him. The heat and intensity shocked him into losing his grasp on it. The hellish fire winked out of existence as soon as his astonishment broke his focus, and he was left stunned to silence. He examined his hands as though they might be blistered from the heat, but they were normal; smooth white skin and small claws unchanged._

  


_He looked from his hands to his father. The man stood tall at his side, long cape sweeping behind him just barely reaching the ground. He saw a wonderful expression on his father’s face – a broad grin that even reached his eyes – and Adrian knew he’d done well. He stood a little taller, smiling back._

  


“ _Very good Adrian, that was excellent,” he felt that reassuring hand on his shoulder again and he glowed with pride at his accomplishment._

  


_By the time they decided to return to the castle Adrian had managed to hone his new skill somewhat, summoning the magic inside him more easily each time he tried and slowly learning to focus it. It was immensely tiring to train himself to do this new thing, but he pushed himself until he was too exhausted to even make it back to the castle under his own steam. His father had scooped him up and carried him home. He fell asleep with his head over the broad chest, lulled by the lazy, slow thud of his father’s ancient heart._

  


Adrian remembered that day with vivid clarity. Finding his magic had been a wonderful moment of bonding between he and his father, and he could almost feel that large clawed hand on his shoulder when he thought about it. He found it much easier to connect with himself after replaying the day in his mind.

  


Confidence.

  


Certainty.

  


Stillness.

  


Calm.

  


Those things were essential to summoning and controlling the chaotic power inside him, and they came much more easily to him now, even after a decade of abstinence. Adrian had become very, very good at finding this place within himself over the years. He used it to fight – his blade always answered him when he commanded it from a place of calm – and he used these things to keep control over his appetite and to ensure he conducted himself in a manner appropriate to a prince.

  


He reminded himself of his father’s advice now, as he searched within for the warm dark throb of his magic. After so long being disconnected it was initially reluctant to bend to his will. He was surprised by the connection he felt when he first touched it, but he was ready for it now. His second attempt was made with the right mindset. Adrian _knew_ he could do this.

  


He felt his hair stirring, his aura expanding around him, his irises lighting with a deep redness. Slowly he felt it opening to him, welling up inside him and in another beat of his heart he was engulfed in intense and withering flames that had a decidedly dark undertone. They crackled and hissed and roasted the ground a few inches beneath his hovering feet. Everything in a sphere around him was suddenly burnt to a crisp or ignited by the searing fire and Adrian didn’t hide his smile, pleased with himself and enjoying the sensation of wielding this power once more.

  


Trevor and Sypha hurriedly moved back when the heat became too intense for them. Sypha wore an absolutely fascinated, excited expression, even as she was shielding herself with her forearm from the waves of heat. Trevor was snorting in effort to clear the unpleasant scent of sulfur from his nostrils, which tended to sting.

  


Adrian moved a bit further from them and faced into the forest, away from the house and barn and anything else he might damage needlessly. Summoning the power was one step, but it was essentially useless unless it was directed and given a purpose. He knew many spells, and thought it would be prudent to test himself and see just how well he could harness what he’d called forth.

  


He revisited past lessons and considered a possible target as the fire licked the air around him and caressed his skin with its strangely pleasant burn. It didn’t harm him at all, but it _did_ take a great deal of concentration to maintain and direct it, and becoming distracted would only result in it slipping away. He picked an old half-dead tree about fifty feet away and went through the motions of a simple but very powerful spell, which culminated in a massive ball of molten heat sailing in a line through the forest into his target. It destroyed everything in its path, even melting through stones and eventually engulfed the huge old tree in a monolithic conflagration which burned so hot the trunk disintegrated entirely in seconds. Satisfied that it was a suitably impressive display, he released the energy. His eyes faded back to gold and he felt rather spent; use of such power also had a cost.

  


He inspected his handiwork with pride, caught up in the memory of his father’s praise when he had first managed to perform this Dark Inferno spell, which was a favourite of Dracula’s. Ashes and char crumbled beneath his heels when his feet touched down, the residual heat threatening to melt the soles of his boots. He flipped his hair over his shoulder, knowing that his human companions were rapt and feeling pleased that he had been successful in performing the spell as they watched.

  


“Holy shit,” Trevor said when he reached them, eyeing the still smoking hole where the large tree had once been.

  


Sypha was looking at him with the queerest expression. It took him a moment to discern that she was trying to process the logistics of his magic, trying to figure out exactly how it worked, how he manipulated the element, where the power came from. He knew a fair bit about the elemental magic she performed, and it was vastly opposite to his own. They could not perform one another’s magics, although they could likely both do some of the same unrelated spells, such as the one used to open the door to the Belmont Hold, or the one she had used to repair his clothing. Those could be performed by anyone capable of manipulating energy, no matter the source.

  


“That was amazing!” Sypha exclaimed, her eyes shining. “You were able to compress so much heat into it! It was so dense, how do you give it enough oxygen to keep it from smothering itself? Where do you draw from? Do you always have the flames around you when you raise energy or were they intentional? How do you cast? I smell sulfur, usually my fire magic smells like carbon, its so different! I want to know everything!”

  


She was gripping his forearms in her hands as she hammered him with questions and marveled again at the sheer volume of destruction. Of course she was more than capable of matching the spread of carnage with her own magic, but her fire spells weren’t as concentrated, although they were far more flexible. Adrian had seen Sypha manipulate fire with a level of finite control and delicacy that was truly impressive. He could destroy on a grand scale, but he could never come close to the feats she could perform with her skills. His fire was expressed in sheer force. Even then, he could only maintain his magic as long as he could draw enough energy to feed it. Already he was somewhat drained, but that was due largely to the fact that he had been showing off, and also to the lack of practice in the last decade.

  


He did, however, have a little more left in his reserves, and there was another thing he wanted to see if he could do.

  


He gently freed himself from Sypha’s grasp. “I’ll explain everything that I can in a few minutes, I just want to try one other thing first.”

  


Trevor put his arms around Sypha’s shoulders and tugged her against his body to give Adrian the space he needed. They both stepped back slightly, but it was not necessary this time. Adrian had to concentrate more for this one, especially because he was already drained and the spell needed a far greater level of focus to be successful. He stilled himself, touching on the well within and pulling forth the power until he felt it encircle him in heat. Unlike before, he didn’t allow a flare of fire to engulf him, rather he directed it _inside_ his body, paying special attention to the physical space he occupied and the sensation of his blood coursing through him. He kept increasing it and concentrating the magic until he felt like every molecule and cell was vibrating with it and he was ready to perform the spell.

  


A column of fire erupted beneath him, burning hot and swallowing his form completely. He felt his body dissolve into it in an instant, becoming part of the fire itself. It was a strange sensation, but it was very similar to becoming mist – his will and intent directed the spell and kept him from losing track of himself – transporting his body in the blink of an eye to a location far enough away so as to be entirely out of his line of sight. He always wondered if he might get stuck, or accidentally reappear inside of something solid, but so far it had never happened. Not that he’d used this fire teleportation often, but he was curious, and he wanted to do something ‘cool’ that would impress his lovers. A new column of fire sprang up behind the barn, and within it Adrian’s form reappeared, whole and unharmed within the center of the flames. They dissipated in moments, leaving only the scent of brimstone clinging in his nostrils and a tingle in his skin.

  


Satisfied, Adrian quickly returned to Trevor and Sypha, appearing behind them at speed. Trevor immediately sensed him and turned to face him.

  


“I thought only Dracula could do that,” he said quickly, frowning. “There are no recorded instances of other vampires being able to teleport like that.”

  


“Trevor, I’m his son,”Adrian pointed out as if that were an explanation by itself.

  


“I know that, I just didn’t realize it was possible for anyone but him.”

  


“I’ll admit that one was tricky to learn, and Father was not especially pleased when I figured it out,” this was accompanied by a self-satisfied tilt of his mouth as he recalled the mixture of pride and displeasure his father had expressed at his learning to do it. Apparently Dracula considered that ability to be one that should remain unique to him alone. He had not expected his dhampir son to be capable of it at all, much less without training, but he was obviously still impressed when Adrian had suddenly appeared in his study one night in a tall column of fire. It was perhaps the only time Adrian had ever seen his father startled. He’d even mistakenly ruined the page he was writing, smearing ink all over the paper. Of course in response Dracula had tested the limits of his new skill and thoroughly demonstrated that he was both outmatched and outclassed where teleportation was concerned, but Adrian knew he was still grudgingly proud.

  


Trevor seemed flabbergasted. “So you can just… just fucking teleport? Anywhere? Just like that?”

  


“No, its not that simple. I can’t go very far, and I need to have a clear idea of where I am going or it doesn’t work. Father can do much more, but I am limited. I don’t have his experience. Teleportation is hard,” he stifled a sudden yawn which took him off-guard. Apparently three days of no sleep was finally beginning to catch up with him. “We should go back to the house,” he suggested, thinking that his bread would be ready for the oven and that maybe he could sneak in a nap before they did much else.

  


Sypha hooked her arm in his and tugged Trevor with her and the trio sauntered together back through the trees towards the clearing where the cottage and barn were located. They left the massive line of incinerated vegetation still smoking behind them.

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

  


Awhile later, Adrian found himself draped lazily in a rough hewn chair at the kitchen table nursing a deliciously hot cup of tea. His gold eyes were sleepy and contented, watching Trevor carefully service the Morning Star across from him. He appreciated the care the hunter put into maintaining his weapons. Hardly a day went by that he didn’t sharpen, oil, or salt his various blades. It seemed to be a meditative process for him. Adrian was growing used to the sensation of the weapon’s proximity; it still set him somewhat on edge, but its creepiness was offset by the image of Trevor expertly and attentively honing the blades of the flail one at a time, his fingers playing over the silvered steel with well-practiced ease.

  


Sypha sank into the chair beside him with her own cup of tea in her hands. She had added some of the goat’s milk and some honey to her cup, but Adrian preferred his black. He disliked milk and sugar. In fact he did not have much of a taste for sweets at all, they were overpowering to his palette. But he did enjoy a strong cup of tea, and when he could get it, coffee was even better.

  


Sypha was eyeing him with a somewhat unnerving gleam in her eye. He knew why; she was extremely curious about his magic, and wanted to ask him all about it. He was happy to oblige her, but he was also finding the warm tea to be lulling him into a relaxed state, and he felt like he might finally be able to get a few hours of sleep if he closed his eyes. He had his chin propped on one hand, elbow resting on the table top. The other was holding his mug, the warmth seeping through his glove into his hand. The smell of baking bread wafted through the cottage – his two loaves were in the small oven and needed another twenty minutes before they’d be ready.

  


“That was a very impressive display of magic Adrian,” Sypha began, making no secret of her interest. “Its so different from anything I’ve seen before, but it looks like it tired you out.”

  


“Hmm,” he agreed. “It did. I wanted to show you something strong, but I’m out of practice. I forgot how much concentration goes into those spells.”

  


Sypha grinned in a way that made Adrian smile in return. She was giddy. He could see the wheels turning in hear head. “Could we practice together? I would love to compare methods. Where do you draw from? The scent of sulfur… usually I only smell that from night creatures, the ones that breathe fire.”

  


“Father was very secretive about the source of his power, but he told me before that our magic is based in chaos. I studied a lot of theory even after I couldn’t practice any longer, but he never truly explained that part. He concentrated on harnessing and focusing the power, rather than explaining it. I believe he has written extensively on the subject in his private memoirs, but he refused to allow me to see them. He kept them sealed in his personal study. Father is very paranoid about anything which could usurp him or surpass him. He defends his secrets vehemently. He knows far more than he would ever tell me.”

  


“Chaos?” Sypha repeated, her brows knitting together and making a cute little wrinkle between them. She held up her fingers and produced a small fireball, holding it between them. It winked out after another moment. “I draw from the world around me. Its easy to gather a lot of energy that way. The different elements feel differently to me, but I can always sense the world itself, like its alive. I felt it since I was a child. I wonder if you can do that?”

  


Adrian shook his head. “I can’t. Its the opposite, the two conflict. I studied elemental magic as well, and I can’t feel what you feel, or harness it. I think that my and my father’s magic is closer to something otherworldly. Its… dark. Destructive. I draw from inside myself. Deep down under everything else there is a pulse of something very strong. I don’t have near the control Father has, but large, dangerous eruptions based in fire are easier, whereas finite manipulations like I see you perform are very taxing. I… have a hypothesis, but I have no way to confirm it.”

  


About what? The source of your magic?”

  


“Yes. I think its the same force that makes us immortal, which makes us heal and remain youthful indefinitely, and also the reason we need blood. I think that Father could have a demon inside him, intertwined with him. I believe he was once a man, and that somehow he became connected to something evil and hungry. He must have paid for this with something, maybe his humanity, or his soul. I don’t even know if he has a soul any longer, or if he actually remembers his life before he became what he is now. He will never speak of it. And the castle… as I said before, he is closely connected to it. Perhaps the castle is alive, or it is where the demon resides. I don’t know. Again, these are only my own hypotheses, I cannot confirm any of it. But… I know Father has the capacity for great evil, and I believe has to work to restrain it. He is always calculating, always carefully in control of his plans, but you have seen firsthand the aftermath of his rage. He maintains the guise of a man, but it slips at times. Despite his best efforts he often ends up causing destruction and death, even when that was not his intention. I’ve seen it. He cannot contain the violence inside of him without something to balance himself out. My mother was that force. With her at his side he was gentle and calm. She tempered his darkness. In her absence he is unfettered and her death has turned him mad.”

  


Trevor set down the Morning Star, which he was finished servicing, and picked up the next weapon he intended to work on. He was listening very intently to Adrian’s words. “Some of my family’s old books say that sort of thing. That he sold his soul to a devil in exchange for power.”

  


Adrian shrugged. “I don’t think it was quite that type of transaction, but it could have been. Father is… complicated. I get the sense he may have been tricked or somehow trapped. He is a scientist and a philosopher. Perhaps his curiosity got the better of him, or his greed. For all of his scheming and planning, I don’t believe he meant to become what he is. But to return to your questions about my magic, Sypha, I can explain only that it is a very deep, very intense well that I access by being absolutely calm and still. If I am uncertain or emotional it doesn’t respond to me. If I don’t feed properly I lose the ability to sense it entirely. Father was adamant that I learn to harness this power, and still more insistent on my learning to manipulate it more delicately. He was an excellent and patient teacher in these matters. The fire spells are the easiest, but he taught me many others. I remember all of them, but most lack any practical application for our purposes. I have no need of compulsion or stealing people’s life force, or of manipulating people’s perception of reality or entering their dreams. I don’t want to frighten or hurt anybody. I want to protect people. I- I wish Mother were here. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t been executed. I should have been there to save her. Maybe then...” Adrian had to stop himself from saying more, his throat suddenly tight and his voice strained.

  


He looked into his teacup sadly, feeling immensely guilty for being too late to save his mother from the stake. He could have prevented all of this if he hadn’t tried to go out on his own, if he hadn’t been so selfish. He had left her unprotected. He should have known that she wouldn’t be safe. Nobody associated with someone as dangerous as Dracula could escape unscathed. Simply being his wife put a target on her, and Adrian had been aware of the whispering about her, the rumors that she was a witch. Her knowledge was too advanced for the simple people of Wallachia to accept. Even though she only helped people, they were afraid of her.

  


Trevor made a noise of irritation and shot Adrian an unsympathetic glare. “People die. You can’t save everyone and you can’t live on what if’s and maybes. Lisa was innocent but she was executed anyway, just like my whole family. You’re still here. I’m still here. You can’t change what happened, so don’t bother beating yourself up about it. That guilt will eat you from the inside out. It will destroy you. Just be glad you’re still around. You can feel guilty if we fail and dear old Drac ends up destroying humanity. _That_ will be worth being guilty over.”

  


Adrian stared at the brunette as he went back to oiling his short sword with fire in his blue eyes and a hard set to his jaw. He felt a stab of guilt of a different kind for sulking about his loss when he knew that Trevor had suffered the same and worse.

  


Sypha put a hand on Adrian’s back, rubbing in small circles and her other hand reached across the table and grabbed one of Trevor’s and squeezed. Adrian saw a flash of pain in his expression before he yanked his hand free and returned to his oiling. “It’s okay to miss her,” she soothed. “I wish I could have met her. It sounds like she was a brilliant and kind woman. But I know you, and I think you have a lot of her in you. You are her son, and you are like her. You want to help people, and you’re strong enough that they can’t hurt you, no matter what kind of ignorant morons some of them are. We spend a lot of time talking about how much of Dracula you have in you, but don’t forget that you are lucky enough to have Lisa inside you too. You’re good. You could even be a doctor someday, after all of this is over.”

  


Adrian pinned her with an incredulous frown. “You can’t be serious. I couldn’t be a doctor. That is utterly preposterous.”

  


Sypha met his frown with a challenging smile. “I disagree. I think you are uniquely suited to it. You can hear and smell things that could help you to diagnose people more accurately, and you’ve already proven you can handle being around blood. You’ve bandaged Trevor and I often enough without so much as your eyes colouring. It would be a great way to help others. It could give your life meaning, Adrian. Trevor and I will not live forever. No matter what the results of trying to defeat Dracula, we are going to die in time, and you aren’t. If you don’t learn how to connect with people you will be very lonely…”

  


Adrian turned back to his teacup, wishing she didn’t have to say it so bluntly, even if it was true. He didn’t want to think about it.

  


“She’s right,” Trevor said, laying his sword on the table to look at the blonde. “Whatever happens, even if we live to be seventy, that’s nothing compared to forever. And the way we’re going I’ll be lucky to live past next week. But I don’t think your old man is going to kill you. He had a chance before, and he didn’t do it.”

  


Adrian shook his head, wanting to put his hands over his ears as if that would stop him from being able to hear their words. “Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want to talk about this.”

  


Trevor reached across the table and caught his wrist, tugging at it. He acquiesced, allowing the hunter to pull his hand back to the table. His black gloved fingers were wrapped in two large, warm palms that smelled like sword oil.

  


“It sucks, but its true. I’ll be here as long as I can, but eventually… I won’t be here anymore. Syph too. I honestly don’t know how to help you prepare to live as long as you will. Even with everything I have seen and learned about as a hunter its hard to believe that anything can live forever, but you will Adrian. You were pretty fucked up in the cage and all it took was some blood and you’re good as new. Almost like it never happened at all. Even the scars are fading, they will probably disappear completely after a few more meals. You’re immortal, and we aren’t. I guess that’s the price you pay for being super strong and fast and eternally young and beautiful. If circumstances were different I’d say you should probably ask your dad how to handle it, but I guess that’s kind of out of the question now.”

  


Adrian felt like he was caving in on himself at the stark truth of Trevor’s words. Sypha scooted her chair closer to him and put her hand on his back again, resuming her soothing circles. He wanted to fling them both off of him but he didn’t move, wilting under the comfort of their touch and gripping his teacup with his free hand. He knew they were only saying what was true, but somehow he had yet to really believe that he would just… remain the same forever. He felt like he would grow old with other people, despite knowing it wasn’t the case.

  


He replayed the short conversation he had once had with his mother when he asked her about becoming a vampire.

  


“ _Adrian I wasn’t meant to live more than one lifetime.”_

  


“ _Don’t you want to be with us forever, Mother?”_

  


“ _I will always be with you, but I want to stay human. Don’t worry sweetie, your father will live forever, you will always have him. You won’t be alone, and neither will he.”_

  


Adrian’s teacup suddenly shattered in his grasp, crushed in his too-tight grip. Tea began to seep out from under his clenched fist. He barely noticed it. None of this was supposed to happen. It was cruel that he was forced into this position, that he had to kill his own father and thereby sentence himself to eternity alone. He couldn’t bring himself to even discuss other possibilities with Trevor and Sypha. How could he ask them to consider becoming something like he was? They were born human. They weren’t meant to live more than one lifetime. It would be horribly selfish and wrong to even bring it up, especially considering it probably wouldn’t work if he tried it. He needed to be thankful for the time they did have, rather than worry about the time after. Looking too far ahead was a sure way to make himself crazy.

  


He uncurled his fist from the shattered remains of the teacup, pulling a slice of ceramic out of his hand and watching the small wound close before more than a few drops of blood leaked out. He would have to ask Sypha to repair his glove again, it was slashed from the sharp edges of the broken mug. He sighed, feeling them both watching him. This was silly. He was just tired and emotional. He stood up, the chair scraping over the floorboards.

  


“I’m sorry, let me clean this up,” he said softly, walking to the kitchen to get a towel. He mopped up the tea and swept the broken shards into his hand, taking them outside. He could smell his bread was finished, so he removed it from the oven, setting the two loaves on wire racks to cool. He felt more composed now.

  


“I think I need some rest, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when you’re hungry and I’ll prepare something for dinner.”

  


He then hopped up to the loft and laid down on the bed there, over top of the covers. He _was_ tired. Three days of no sleep and now using so much energy on his magic was starting to catch up with him. He just needed a bit of rest, and to clear the sad thoughts and memories from his mind. It wouldn’t do to become morose every time he thought of his family, or the future. He was stronger than that. He wished that Trevor and Sypha didn’t always see him at his weakest. He was so incredibly strong and capable, and he wanted them to feel safe and protected by him, not like they needed to coddle him or tiptoe around his turbulent feelings. Trevor’s words were harsh, but they were not meant to hurt him. It wasn’t their job to protect him from his own longevity. He would figure it out eventually. He had all the time in the world.

  


He fell asleep a few minutes later.

  


**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this part of the story. I had a few ideas in mind of how to express Adrian's magic and how to reveal it and this is how it came together. I partly wanted it to be more of a surprise during a fight, but I really wanted him to have that memory of learning from Drac, so I chose to present it this way instead. Shout out to SOTN for the Dark Inferno influence!
> 
> I would love to hear your comments, they have been very helpful in guiding me and letting me know what I'm doing well and where I can improve! Thank you!


	24. Part Twenty-Four

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Four**

Adrian passed several hours in a still and dreamless slumber, but eventually he was pulled back to consciousness by the now-familiar sound of Trevor and Sypha bickering about something that was most likely inane and probably borne of their own stubborn natures. Their voices were coming from outside, but he could hear them clearly, caught in a circular back and forth that sounded like it was getting more heated by the minute.

Unwilling to leave the comfort of his resting place just yet he stirred lazily and opened his eyes, blinking up at the rafters overhead. It was warm and dark in the loft, and the smell of fresh bread filled the room. Adrian had fallen asleep with his boots and coat on, but he didn’t mind. The quilt beneath him was hardly even rumpled – he was very still in his sleep and hadn’t disturbed it much. Now he took the opportunity to stretch indulgently, arms overhead and toes pointed, his linen shirt riding up slightly and exposing his abdomen. He yawned wide and sat up, smoothing his gloved fingers through his hair.

He felt far better after some rest. His mind wasn’t so turbulent and upset over the earlier conversation any longer. There were things to do and he was fairly certain that if he didn’t go and break up his two squabbling lovers that Sypha was likely to either set Trevor on fire or follow through on her threat to end the Belmont line by freezing his balls off. Poor Trevor. Adrian would almost feel sorry for him if he didn’t know him so well. But he did, so any sympathy towards him was quickly offset by the knowledge that he’d more than likely earned Sypha’s ire.

Adrian rose gracefully, pushing the oilskin from the window and peering out over the lawn. The sun had traveled across the sky and by his assessment it was somewhere in the middle of the afternoon. He wrinkled his nose at the brightness and let the flap fall shut, but he’d already seen enough to make him smirk to himself.

Sypha had taken the goat out of the barn paddock and had it on a rope lead which it was in the process of chewing through even as the copper-haired mage tried to yank it free so the animal could be led to the cart, which was in the middle of the yard and now laden with supplies. Trevor was gesticulating dramatically at the animal and pointing to the barn, stomping his foot.

Adrian silently made his way through the cottage and out towards the scene. He arrived as Sypha stepped between Trevor and the goat, as if to defend her charge.

“Trev she has to come with us! We can’t leave her here, she’ll starve!”

The last Belmont laughed harshly. “Like hell that thing is going to starve, it already tried to eat my hand and your robe. Turn it loose and it’ll be fine. We aren’t fucking farmers. Didn’t you learn anything from the last time we tried to bring a goat with us? It will slow us down too much and attract attention. It’s not coming.”

“She’s a _she_ , not and _it_ , and _she’s_ coming with us. We owe Hana a goat, remember? You stole hers, and she was so kind to us. We have to bring her.”

“No, we don’t. Like I give a shit if I owe some old maid a damned farm animal. She’s probably dead by now anyway. That village is the closest one to where the castle is right now. I’m sure everyone there is already dead. Dracula will need corpses for his necromancer to turn into night creatures, and who better to kill than helpless peasants? Come on Syph, you know I’m right.”

Sypha stood her ground, crossing her arms and leveling Trevor with a challenging glare. “I don’t care. She’s coming with us. She’s a sweetie, aren’t you girl,” she turned and made to pet the animal’s side. The goat made a noise of indignation and snapped at her hand. Sypha withdrew quickly, the sound of teeth echoing between them. “She’s just nervous because of all the commotion. You’re scaring her.”

Trevor barked derisively at that. “Right. _I’m_ scaring _her_. That’s rich.”

Adrian debated whether he should bother interjecting. This argument was more ridiculous than he initially realized and it was pretty clear that there was no way to make both parties happy, so he didn’t see any point in getting involved. Instead he crossed his arms and leaned casually on the side of the barn in the shade, letting them carry on of their own accord.

Trevor grabbed the rope lead and yanked it, pulling the brown and white animal back towards the barn. “C’mon, back in your pen.”

Sypha rushed to stop him, grabbing the middle of the rope and trying to pull in the opposite direction. Trevor nearly yanked her off her feet but she flicked a finger and froze one of his boots to the ground, effectively halting his progress.

“That’s fucking cheating,” he growled and pulled a dagger from somewhere on his person, quickly throwing it so it pinned the bottom of Sypha’s robe into the dirt. Adrian had to bite back a snicker at their childish standoff. The rope was taught between them, still being yanked in two directions.

“You can’t leave her in there, there is nobody here to take care of her Trev. She needs us.”

“Well why don’t we kill her and eat her then? Problem solved. Adrian can have the blood. Everyone wins.”

“No! Look at her sweet face, we can’t kill an animal like her! Besides, she can give us milk while we are traveling!”

Ever reasonable, Adrian was willing to consider bringing the animal if only to repay the kindness of this ‘Hana’ woman. If she wasn’t dead, as Trevor had said already. And she probably was, so it would be pointless to bring the goat. He glanced at it skeptically, noting that it had already managed decent progress on the lead while the pair were distracted. It gave him an unimpressed stare with one eye, creepy oblong pupil making him recoil. No wonder people associated these animals with devils; they were just awful. Adrian thought if he had to take a side here it would be Trevor’s. Killing it or leaving it behind sounded far preferable to dragging it along. It had already proven that it had an awful temperament. Sypha was clearly delusional.

As Trevor managed to free his boot from the ice and Sypha yanked the dagger out of the earth to unpin her robe, the rope went slack, eaten through by the animal in question. It bleated at them both and trotted off in the opposite direction, towards the garden where it casually began to eat the vegetables, stubby tail swishing in triumphant glee. The mage and hunter ran after it and were led in a comical and fruitless chase in circles around the garden.

After tripping over one another and knocking their heads together Trevor threw his hands up in exasperation and stalked towards the barn. “Fine Sypha, if you can catch it you can bring it, but I’m not taking care of it!” he called over his shoulder, dusting himself off and rubbing the goose egg he was getting on his head gingerly.

“Jesus you’d think her skull is made of rocks,” he muttered to himself, pausing beside the dhampir and giving him a scowl. “You look awfully fucking smug,” he snapped when he saw Adrian’s expression, but his mouth softened into a sheepish grin. “I should know better than to try and win an argument with Sypha by now. Serves me right.”

“It does,” Adrian agreed, opting to keep the smirk. He caught Trevor’s elbow in his hand and tugged the hunter closer, tracing a careful fingertip over the growing bump on his head. Trevor seemed like he was going to resist, but he allowed himself to be pulled against Adrian’s chest and inspected.

“I think you’ll live,” he concluded after a moment, taking the opportunity to press a kiss to the hunter’s hair and another on his temple.

“OW! Hey! Stop that! I’m on your side!” Sypha’s voice came across the lawn and both men looked up to see her tugging the edge of her robe out of her rescued charge’s teeth. Her finger was bleeding where it had clearly bitten her. At the scent of blood Adrian tensed, considering coming to her aid but Trevor wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back.

“Don’t you dare help her. Let her learn the hard way. That thing is a menace.”

“But-

“No. She’ll never learn if you play hero every time she is too pig-headed to see reason.”

Something about that statement made Adrian smile. “You’ll be a good father someday Trevor,” he said affectionately, leaning his head against the hunter’s.

Trevor shrugged. “That’s a scary thought. Me, the responsible one between us. Christ help whatever kid gets fucked over hard enough to have me as a parent. Come help me with the horses. Let her suffer a little longer.”

They both watched as the goat pulled Sypha forward and she landed hard on her hands and knees in a patch of greens. It bent right beside her and started nibbling at the leaves, ignoring her exaggerated fuming.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t-

Trevor rolled his eyes. “No Adrian, we shouldn’t. How are you this soft? She’ll be fine. Horses, come on.”

Adrian let himself be guided into the barn and out of sight of Sypha for the time being. He couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not helping, but he supposed Trevor was right, and he wasn’t exactly eager to go head to head with that awful creature. Extracting its milk earlier had been plenty harrowing for his tastes already.

The interior of the barn was warm and dim, the strong scents of animals and hay nearly overpowering to Adrian’s delicate senses. He wasn’t much for the rugged life, and he lacked an appreciation for this sort of organic environment. Horses were fine, but he could do without all the rest. Trevor, on the other hand, seemed very much at home. Given his unusual life it was likely that he’d spent many nights sleeping in piles of straw or between animals for warmth. Adrian could imagine him sneaking into a place like this to bed down and keep from freezing to death on an especially cold night. The man had no compunctions about doing what was necessary, dignity and standards be damned. Adrian had to wonder if he would be able to tolerate living in a normal home, sleeping inside and such; maybe his wanderlust would be too strong to keep him in any single place for very long.

Trevor completely lacked appreciation for the finer things in life, but Adrian was beginning to long for them wistfully.

If there was anything to look forward to in all of this – aside from the whole saving the human race part – it was to finally return to his home and be able to get properly clean. The romanticism of life on the road had been lost some time ago, and he wished fervently for clean nails and hair and the plushness of a feather bed under him, and the softness of silk sheets on his skin. He could hardly claim to sweat at all, but he felt like he was coated in a layer of grime from head to toe which no amount of bathing in creeks and lakes would ever wash away. He nearly fantasized about giving Sypha and Trevor a good scrubbing as well; neither of them was especially mindful of their hygiene on the road. He longed to have them pink and fresh and dressed in something they hadn’t already been wearing for weeks on end.

But that was a dream for another day, because at present Adrian’s buckskin boots were only narrowly avoiding the closest pile of horse shit and Trevor was impatiently holding out the reins of one of the two large animals for him to take. They needed to be brushed down and all of their gear needed to be inspected before they could go anywhere.

Adrian accepted the length of thick leather and an apple in his hands and watched Trevor for a moment. The animals were eager for attention and not shy, and Trevor had already begun sliding his palm along one long brown nose, speaking quietly under his breath and letting the animal get used to him before he began to brush. As with most things, Trevor got right down to business and didn’t waste any time.

Adrian hesitated momentarily, considering the things he had been thinking about earlier. He wanted to talk to Trevor about some of his uncertainties, but didn’t know how to begin. Rather than say anything he turned his focus to the chestnut mare with a dappling of white along her face and chest. She nosed him curiously, looking for treats and attention. He gently stroked her face, letting her smell him. She was far more interested in the apple than being touched. He offered it to her and it was taken greedily into her mouth, straight white teeth crunching through it in seconds. After she finished with the fruit and was convinced that there were no more apples hiding within reach she stilled and let Adrian brush her, beginning with her mane.

“Sypha and I got the wagon pretty much packed while you were napping, so we can get going as soon as we are done with this,” Trevor offered after a few minutes of companionable silence passed.

“We should have lunch first,” Adrian suggested. “Then we can hopefully make some good progress before we have to stop again.”

“We ate while you were asleep,” Trevor turned and gave him a wide smile, one that Adrian thought made him look very handsome. He had also shaved at some point and was almost stubble free – an unusual look for the normally grizzled hunter. “I didn’t think you would be hungry yet.”

The blonde nodded in understanding. “I’ll be fine for awhile.”

They went back to brushing, Adrian finding himself tongue-tied and at a loss for how he could outright ask Trevor to explain sex between men to him in so many words. It was too strange a thing to ask, no matter his curiosity. Sypha had made it easier to talk to her earlier because she had asked him what he was thinking about, but Trevor didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him at all, his mind was obviously elsewhere. He was moving through his task expediently, not saying much. He was probably thinking about the coming journey, and what lay at its end.

“Syph had that nasty skin book out for awhile earlier,” Trevor said suddenly, breaking the spell of silence. “She got really curious after you were talking about your magic and your ideas about the castle and your dad. I guess there are a few pages in there about how to kill him. I’d take anything in there with a grain of salt through, because whoever wrote that thing is long dead and Drac’s still kickin’ so they couldn’t have been very successful.”

“Was there something we haven’t already thought of?”

Trevor shrugged his wide shoulders. He was working on his mare’s tail now, trying to untangle some knots in the long hair. “Nothing completely new, but lemme ask you, did you ever see something you’d consider to be the ‘heart’ of the castle? Like, a creepy old section with a pool of blood, or some all-powerful artifact, or maybe a coffin where he sleeps?”

Adrian considered this. He shook his head. “No. Remember, if he didn’t want me to see something, it was impossible to access. I’m sure there are many places I have never found. He slept with mother in their bedroom most of the time.”

Trevor snorted. “What a joke. Scariest vampire around and he sleeps in a regular bed with his wife like a human.”

“Well, they didn’t only sleep in the bed,” Adrian said with a little smile, tip of one fang visible. “They had a coffin too.”

Trevor dropped the brush. It clattered to the dirt floor and he had to bend to retrieve it. “ _They_? Like, they shared it?”

Adrian laughed. “Mother was very open-minded I suppose, always trying to understand things from Father’s point of view, demonstrate her acceptance. The one they shared was a gaudy thing, made specifically with her comfort in mind. I think when I was really small they brought me too sometimes; I remember being in it between them. I imagine he has another somewhere more secretive, but yes, they did occasionally share a coffin.”

Trevor took a few moments to process that. He opened his mouth like he was going to say more then closed it, thinking. Eventually he spoke again. “You were sleeping in a coffin under Gresit.”

Adrian nodded. “I miss it from time to time. It’s very comfortable. Quiet, dark, peaceful. I have one at the castle too.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “That’s such a fucking cliché. Vampires sleeping in coffins. Christ.”

He favoured the hunter with a mocking smirk. “You could join me sometime if you like. You’ll sleep like the dead.”

Trevor put a hand over his face, shaking his head. “That’s terrible. You’re terrible. The worst. There is no way in hell I am crawling into one of those things while I’m still alive.”

“Scared, Belmont?” Adrian teased.

“No, but I don’t like confined spaces. Why the hell would your mother agree to that? Did Drac force her?”

“I don’t think so. Most likely she was curious; she always wanted to know everything about everything. When you consider the way she walked boldly into Father’s castle and demanded he teach her what he knew of science it’s unsurprising that her brash fearlessness was at play in other areas as well. Besides, there was no safer place for her than at his side – she would certainly be in no danger.”

Trevor was caught in a rare moment of speechlessness, evidently at a total loss for any response to that.

Adrian flushed then, remembering something he would have preferred to forget. “I accidentally walked in on them once and they were… you know.”

Trevor leveled Adrian with an incredulous, slightly disgusted look. “You’re saying you caught your parents _fucking_ in a coffin?”

It was Adrian’s turn to shrug. “It seemed fairly normal at the time. I rather think I should have had more siblings given how… healthy their relationship was.”

Trevor seemed like he was in real danger of choking on his own tongue, but he managed to regain his composure after a moment and ended up grinning knowingly. “You know, there shouldn’t have been any surprises in a household where almost everyone has super senses. Sounds like your dad was flaunting it.”

“Probably. I was already twelve or so, and that was the time where we had started to fight a lot. He often took advantage of opportunities to put me in my place or make me uncomfortable. It comes off as childish now that I think of it.”

“You don’t say,” Trevor deadpanned.

“I suspect he was jealous of how close Mother and I were. She was teaching me a lot about her medical practice, and we spent a great deal of time in Targoviste at her cottage. I think he wanted to make sure I knew that she belonged to him.”

Trevor just stared at him for a second, processing that. “I hope you realize how royally fucked up that is.”

“I do now. Then… well at the time I was just relieved that I realized what was going on before I actually saw anything I’d never be able to forget. I- uh-” he coughed dryly. “I was more careful to knock after that.”

There was a distinct snicker and Adrian shot Trevor a reproachful glare. “Shut up.”

“Hey c’mon, you know it’s funny. Especially since you’re such a prude.”

Adrian felt heat rise on his cheeks. “I’m not a prude,” he snapped. “Nobody wants to see their parents doing- _that_.”

Trevor raised a brow, setting his brush aside and checking his horse’s hooves to see what state they were in. He held one fore-leg between his knees and began to clean the shoe. “I can agree with you about the parents bit, but you’re literally pulling the whole blushing virgin thing on me right now. We can barely talk about sex and you are uncomfortable.”

The fact that Trevor was right didn’t help matters in the slightest. Adrian sighed, finishing with his horse. He didn’t know how to assess the hooves or shoes, so he started to look over the bridles and other equipment to check for damage. A moment passed while he tried to think of how to respond to Trevor’s observation. “You don’t have to point it out like that,” he finally said, voice soft.

Trevor grinned shamelessly. “How else would I get you to make that face?”

“I’m not- I’m not making any face!” he looked intently at the tangle of horse-related stuff he was sifting through to avoid meeting the blue stare he could feel on his back.

Trevor stopped what he was doing and closed the distance between them, pulling the riding gear out of Adrian’s hands and guiding the dhampir’s arms around his waist. “Yes you are,” he said in a low tone, his hand cupping Adrian’s rear and squeezing indulgently. He seriously contemplated launching the hunter across the barn; it would serve him right.

“Trevor,” he bit in warning, squirming under the brunette’s hold. He found himself responding to their closeness, to his partner’s scent and heat pressed so near. He turned his head to the side, trying to ease out of Trevor’s arms. Admittedly, he wasn’t trying very hard. Trevor tightened his hold and there was a sharp pain on Adrian’s ear as the hunter bit him there. He shivered, his fingertips digging into muscled sides in a halfhearted attempt to gain his freedom.

“Sometimes I wonder if you don’t realize how sexy you are,” Trevor said in that same rough tone, speaking conspiratorially into Adrian’s ear and punctuating his announcement with another fistful of leather-clad ass cheek. “But that’s impossible. You _have_ to know.”

Adrian didn’t have a response to that, managing only to shift uncomfortably in Trevor’s hold.

“I think you’re doing it on purpose,” the hunter growled, teeth latching to the pale skin on Adrian’s neck. He bit harder, and crushed the dhampir against his body. “Making me crazy, parading around in tight pants with all that blonde hair flying behind you and blushing at anything even remotely provocative. You’re teasing me,” he accused.

“I’m… not,” he said, feeling breathless. It suddenly seemed very hot in the barn.

“Then let me enlighten you,” Trevor said in between working his lips along Adrian's throat, sucking the spot just below his ear until he was leaning into the other man helplessly as goose flesh spread along his neck from the attention. “You’re unfairly hot. I can’t wait to fuck you. This morning used up the last of my patience and when you admitted how much it turned you on I was ready to bend you over the God damned table right then and there. I’m know you need time but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t. I’m only a man Adrian, I can only take so much.”

Adrian stiffened at this blatant declaration of Trevor’s intentions. He had never come out and said it like that before. Even though he liked the attention to his throat and the sensation of the hunter against him, he was uncomfortable. He pushed Trevor away, eyeing him warily. How could he ask all the questions he had in the face of Trevor’s words?

“Uhm,” he murmured, inching backwards. “Could we slow down a little?”

Trevor stepped closer again, though he didn’t try anything beyond putting his hands on Adrian’s waist. “If we go any slower we’ll be going backwards.”

Adrian began to feel cornered, but he stood his ground. He was past running away from these things. He put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, holding him at arm’s length. “I have questions.”

There was the barest hint of exasperation on Trevor’s face, as though he was tired of discussing everything to death, but it was fleeting. “About what?”

“About sex. About you and Sypha and myself, and where I fit into that.”

Now Trevor looked puzzled. “What do you mean where you fit in? Ideally you’d fit between us… I mean, you could top, but I don’t get the impression you’d want to, especially the first time. I’ll try anything, really, though. Hell, even Sypha will-”

“Top?”

Whatever Trevor was going to say was cut off by Adrian’s utterance of that single word, and his obvious confusion over it. The hunter squinted oddly at him, before realization dawned on his features. “Adrian are you telling me you don’t know what that means?”

Adrian’s gold eyes glared into Trevor’s sharp blue. “I know what it means,” he insisted, not without a touch of petulance. He didn’t want to seem as uninformed as he actually was; he didn’t want Trevor to know. His hand slipped from the hunter’s shoulder slowly. He grasped Trevor’s arm near the elbow and resigned himself to embarrassment. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to- to do that,” he said quietly, playing with the fabric of Trevor’s sleeve, cheeks blazing.

“In what universe would I _not_ want to? You might have noticed how I get a boner anytime you wiggle that perfect ass near me, or any other part, for that matter. You’re a walking wet dream, for fuck’s sake.”

That was a bit much for the blonde. He was already struggling just to navigate their conversation, but Trevor was pushing hard, no longer bothering to edit himself or treat Adrian with kid gloves. He found himself replaying the hunter’s words as he worried his lower lip between his teeth. Trevor’s eyes followed his mouth, not missing a single movement.

“Christ I told you before what it does to me when you bite your lip like that. That shit is why I wonder if you are really this naive or if you’re fucking with me.”

Adrian scowled, crossing his arms in irritation. Why did this jerk have to make these things so difficult? “I’m being serious Trevor. You and Sypha were together before I became involved. We have never discussed this until now.”

“Sorry, sorry, jeeze, don’t get all upset, I thought it was pretty obvious what all three of us wanted. We can talk about it. What do you want to know?” Trevor backed up his statement with an arm around Adrian’s waist, his palm open over the curve of his lower back. It helped make things less awkward. Adrian’s inclination was to withdraw when he was uncomfortable, but Trevor wasn’t going to let him, he kept bringing them back together, maintaining a physical connection. It helped. He found himself leaning into the touch.

“Do you really want to… do _that_ to me?” he asked, knowing he sounded diffident even though he was trying no to.

Trevor planted a kiss on his temple. “You have no idea,” he said with a toothsome grin, pulling Adrian more tightly against his body. “You don’t want to?”

Adrian wavered, trying to find a polite way to say what he was thinking. “Well, it seems like it would be… unpleasant. Painful. Unsanitary. I don’t see the appeal. Male anatomy isn’t intended to be-”

“It can be all of those things,” Trevor admitted, which only served to further confuse the blonde.

“Then what is the appeal? You own enjoyment? Even if it feels bad for the other person?”

“It doesn't have to feel bad. It can feel great if you’re properly prepared and a little care is taken. I don’t plan on hurting you. I mean, unless you want me to, but let’s start with the normal stuff before we worry about the kinky shit. Syph and I even tried it, for fun. But women are missing some key anatomy, so it doesn’t feel as good for them. We were just fucking around, playing. She couldn’t get off just from anal.”

Trevor’s hand had worked its way along Adrian’s lower back. He slipped it into the tight confines of his breeches, cupping his bare rear and squeezing affectionately. “Let’s not beat around the bush. I’d like to try, and fuck do I ever hope you will give it a chance, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s not like I can force you.”

Adrian studied the hunter’s face as he thought about what he was saying. “Can’t we just do it the traditional way?”

Trevor raised a brow. “Unless you have a pussy you aren’t telling me about...” he removed his hand from the back of Adrian’s pants and pushed it down the front instead, cupping the blonde’s testicles and groping around behind them obtusely. Adrian grabbed the hunter’s wrist, tugging his hand away.

“Quit it,” he complained with annoyance.

“Hey don’t get all pissy, I was just checking. I’m all for something new and you _are_ prettier than most of the women as it is, though you’re awfully tall...”

Adrian rolled his eyes and slapped a hand to his forehead, bowing it in exasperation. “Oh my God Belmont I don’t have a vagina I was talking about Sypha.”

The shameless grin appeared once more, just begging to be slapped off the cocky jerk’s face. Adrian was rather proud of his restraint thus far. A lesser man would have already punched Trevor or at the very least tossed him across the barn. “I know you were. But making you uncomfortable is so _satisfying_. I can’t help myself.”

That was the final straw. Adrian _did_ toss Trevor this time, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and flipping him hard onto his back, making sure to knock the wind out of him. The horses whinnied in alarm and stamped their hooves, making to bolt at the sudden commotion. Adrian grabbed their reins before they could trample the hunter in their effort to escape. Trevor stayed where he landed, winded, but still smirking with self-satisfaction. Adrian gave him a mildly disgusted curl of his lip and flipped his hair over one shoulder, leading the horses out of the barn. He was courteous enough to lead the animals _around_ the man on the floor, rather than over him.

“Good talk,” Trevor called after him, his voice a wheeze.

“Fuck you,” he shot back, not bothering to look over his shoulder, although he knew the idiot was still grinning as he tried to catch his breath.

That exchange had been _awfully_ awkward, but at least he’d found a few of the answers he had been searching for. He was secretly grateful for Trevor’s humour and his complete lack of propriety; it made him much easier to talk to about the uncomfortable things which Adrian knew he’d never be able to put into so many words on his own. Trevor never failed to provide a push to get the ball rolling when Adrian was paralyzed by trepidation. Now Adrian’s thoughts were circling over the topic at hand, replaying Trevor’s words in his mind. He was not necessarily convinced that he _wanted_ to try it, but he was certainly growing more curious.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

The trio left the quaint forest cottage behind in the late afternoon with a mixture of fond memories and a heavy sensation of foreboding as they proceeded towards what Adrian knew may well be their doom. It was still sharply cold and bright, even as the shadows were beginning to lengthen beneath the pines. Adrian was on foot, allowing Trevor and Sypha to sit on the wagon seat and lead the horses along a narrow, winding course through the thick trees. He could already detect the scent of death on the wind from time to time, but for the moment it remained far off in the distance and he expected they had a few days ride before they encountered the source of the odour.

Nestled in the back of the wagon was the brown and white bone of contention which was already proving herself to be far more trouble than she could possibly be worth, especially given that she seemed both willing and able to chew through almost anything, including the sacks they’d packed their food stores in and the ropes used to tether her into the cart. The goat wasn’t fast enough to keep up with the horses, and she had been relegated to the wagon after only a short time.

Trevor was still shooting Sypha poorly concealed dirty looks over the animal’s presence, which were met with haughty little snorts and the sight of Sypha’s small nose turned upwards, her arms crossed. In Adrian’s opinion the pair of them were acting like children. He couldn’t bring himself to be irritated though, because there was clearly levity underlying their squabbling, and Trevor’s glares had lost their sting sometime ago.

When the dhampir next glanced back at them Trevor had wound an arm around the Speaker and they were leaning into one another. He could hear her hum of approval as she snuggled closer to the his warmth and he pawed at the swell of her thigh to draw her nearer. Adrian returned his eyes to the path, a small smile gracing his lips.

As nighttime drew in around them Adrian shifted to his lupine form, padding along well ahead of the horses and scenting the forest for any sign of danger. His paws tread silently over the dirt and stones, ears high, golden eyes scanning the dark spots between the trees. He kept a careful ear trained on the cart bumping along behind him and occasionally did a wide circling loop around his companions, ever vigilant and easily resuming his position ahead of them on the trail.

Eventually the horses needed rest and the trees were so thick they were blacking out the trail and making it difficult to traverse. Trevor called Adrian back to them and he appeared astride the cart in the blink of an eye, his large white form slipping silently from between the trees. He pricked his ears forwards to show Trevor he was listening, giving the horses a wide berth in case they spooked at the sudden appearance of a wolf. They seemed alright and he deduced that they had grown used to him over the past hours and perhaps recognized his scent from earlier.

“Let’s find somewhere to stop, I can’t see a damn thing,” Trevor complained. Adrian noted the way his eyes were straining in the blackness, the blue irises a thin ring around pupils which were open wide to catch what little light was available. If his fur weren’t white he thought Trevor wouldn’t have been able to see him at all. He released the soul of the wolf, quickly returning to his usual shape and hopping gracefully into the cart so he could speak to them.

He landed neatly on the balls of his feet, earning an unappreciative snap from the startled goat in the back. In a moment of pure reaction Adrian gave the creature a low growl and flashed his teeth in warning. She stilled and regarded him warily, then twitched an ear and decided he was better left alone. Satisfied, Adrian returned his attention to Trevor and Sypha.

“If we continue a little further there is some higher ground where the trees are thinner and the animals could graze,” he informed in a quiet tone.

“Then let’s rest there for awhile and make something to eat,” Sypha suggested. “Its getting cold again. I can see my breath.”

“I’ll go ahead and gather some wood for a fire,” Adrian offered. Before anyone could answer him he sprang from the cart, clearing the horses easily and landing well ahead of them. He disappeared from his companion's view, proceeding forward at speed and searching out standing dead wood to make a fire with.

He found his prize, making short work of a couple of dead cedars which were well dried. Soft wood was perfect for a quick warm fire, and he could look later for something harder which would burn longer into the night and keep the chill at bay.

Adrian didn’t necessarily enjoy this type of thing; it fell under the category of ‘roughing it’ and he disliked the sharp scent of sap on his gloves, the bits of cedar sticking in his hair, small branches plucking at his coat and threatening to pull the gold embroidery along the edges. He did it because he wanted Trevor and Sypha to be comfortable. He enjoyed that part, and it made the mundane tasks worthwhile.

By the time the cart and company pulled into the small grassy break in the trees Adrian was just lighting the fire. He took a page from Sypha’s book and used magic, attempting to keep the burst of flame small and controlled. He was still getting used to the sensation of calling the power up from inside him and found he wanted to practice summoning and manipulating it. It wouldn’t do to be rusty and slow if he needed a spell in the heat of the moment. He also knew he should probably familiarize himself with some of the things he had yet to try, but the thought of using such abilities on his partners was most distasteful. He was quite serious when he said he had no desire for controlling people or confusing their perceptions. He wrinkled his nose at the thought.

He managed to get a cheery little blaze going without setting the rest of the forest alight. As he released the gathered magical energy he watched the flames curl around the kindling with pops and crackles, casting a warm flickering glow on their surroundings.

Adrian offered Sypha his hand, guiding her from the cart. She gripped his glove in her small fingers, allowing him to help her down even though she was perfectly capable of descending unaided. Trevor jumped off with a solid _thud_ of boots hitting the ground and took a cursory look around.

“We are pretty exposed here, we really shouldn’t have a fire,” he grumbled, noting the small, thin circle of young trees that surrounded the clearing. They would do little to shield them from view. Night creatures were attracted to signs of life, and could smell humans and livestock easily from long distances. Any monsters in the area would be drawn to them as it was. Doubly so with the addition of fire.

“Its cold,” Adrian pointed out, watching as Sypha led the goat down from the cart and tied her off on a nearby tree. She immediately began to graze. Trevor eyed the horses, his expression thoughtful.

“We might have to leave in a hurry.”

Despite this, he unhooked them and mimicked Sypha, tying the animals off so they could feed.

“I’ll keep watch while you sleep,” Adrian offered as they started to unpack some bread and cheese to eat. Trevor took an exploratory lap around the area, learning the terrain and finally resolving himself to unpacking some blankets for he and Sypha. She quickly made herself comfortable by the fire and doled out portions of food for each of them while she waited on water to boil for tea. Adrian accepted a hunk of bread and some slices of cheese and sank down beside her, Trevor on her other side.

Adrian kept a careful ear on the forest as he nibbled his portion. Chatter was sparse, Trevor’s unease seeming contagious. His instincts were rarely wrong; he had an uncanny sense for danger. They kept the fire small and low, only feeding it a log when the current one started to burn down, and after they finished the food Trevor wasted little time stretching out to get some rest. Adrian kissed them both then found a good perch in a nearby oak tree where he could see over the tops of the smaller saplings around the clearing. He rested his back against the uneven bark, one knee bent against his chest, the other leg dangling. He watched as Sypha curled into Trevor’s heat and laid down as well. The pair were out in a few minutes, leaving Adrian alone with the night.

He didn’t notice one of their charges making her escape, having once more gnawed through the rope which tethered her in place.

The hours crept by slowly, inching along a little at a time as the moon made its way across the cloudless sky. Cold seeped into everything and left the ground with a dusting of light frost. Adrian added to the fire several times to keep it from dying out, and he spread an extra blanket over Trevor and Sypha when he saw them shivering. They were laying on top of Trevor’s fur cloak, which would do a good job of keeping the damp ground from stealing all of their warmth.

It was absolutely silent except for the crackle of flames and his companion’s breathing.

Adrian watched them sleep for a long time, mulling over his conversations from the day. There was a lot to contemplate, so he was glad for the hours of uninterrupted quiet. He thought hard on his earlier conversation with Trevor, and also back to the events of the morning, and the night before. Things felt far changed from only two days ago; they had altered the context of their threesome considerably, and Adrian was still a bit overwhelmed at everything, like it was happening very quickly. Thoughts of blood and intimacy and discussions of sex were all mashed together, but ultimately he was happier for each new experience.

He still had reservations about breaking his blood fast – it was not so easy to change a veritable lifetime of habit – but he realized that it was okay, even though it made him squirm to think of it. He was becoming marginally more comfortable with the things feeding had stirred up, but he still didn’t see himself making a habit of it. He detested feeling out of control, and didn’t like the powerful stir of his instincts reminding him of his dual nature.

It was still disconcerting to bear witness to his own desires; he felt apprehensive in the face of them, and ill-equipped to subdue his urges, hardly comforted by the knowledge that his nature was now accepted and such complete control was not really necessary. He still struggled to put everything together. He had difficulty picturing himself burying his teeth into those he loved and for that to be okay, even after doing it. Especially after discovering how much the evidence affected him. It made him recoil and grow tense just picturing it, both for the arousal it provoked and the revulsion at the idea of such a reaction.

He would need time to test the waters and grow more accepting of that part of himself, if such a thing were even possible. He had no doubt Trevor and Sypha would be more than willing to participate, but he still felt dirty and shameful for having the feelings at all.

He wondered at what point the novelty would wear off for them. Eventually he expected they would grow tired of being bitten, marked, or bruised, of being balanced somewhere on the line between partner and prey. Adrian himself was already exasperated by the relentless impulses and it had been a mere day. He hoped with fervor that the excitement would wear off in time for him as well, and that he wouldn’t have to war with himself so much.

One small concession was that they were three, so things could be spread between them, and they could all support each other as they went along. He was grateful for that. It seemed a stronger formation than a mere couple could achieve.

He was also beginning to feel relieved to find himself with what could only be described as a desire to perform sexual service. He felt he could give something back to Trevor and Sypha, and that he could surrender to them, perhaps even confess the particulars of his anxieties and allow them to assume some form of control and relieve him of the pressure of his own nature from time to time.

He wondered if they could use that to transform what was immeasurably complicated into something far simpler.

Perhaps he could begin by braving the experience Trevor so clearly lusted for. Part of him regretted throwing Trevor in irritation earlier, because they had been right into the meat of the issue at hand and Adrian had been so out of his element that he was easily provoked by Trevor’s teasing. Now he wished he hadn’t been so hesitant to discuss it, or so quick to grow flustered. He still struggled to reconcile the concept of anal sex with himself, but after every odd and revealing experience they had shared he was no longer scared to share his body with the pair, or his heart.

He simply needed an opportunity to put everything from the past few days together and find the best arrangement. He could no longer deny his own desires, or his happiness at being so deeply connected to the hunter and mage he loved. At its core, it felt good and right with them. There was some combination of all of the different factors that he believed would fit together perfectly with a bit of wiggling, and he was determined to find that. Feelings and instincts which seemed to be the antithesis of one another would probably fall into place if he could just figure out how to position them. He wanted it to work, and was just starting to recognize that he deserved happiness as much as they did.

Adrian shifted on his perch in the large tree, his minute movements sounding deafening to him in the quiet darkness. His skin was as cold as the air around him. He had hardly moved for the last hour, the stillness of sitting in place a comforting companion to the reverberations of his mind. He leaned into the bark, its hardness not bothering him, rather it was pleasant to sink against something so unyielding and tangible; the perfect juxtaposition to the fluid swirl of his thoughts. He appreciated that now, when the jumble of it all seemed nearly overwhelming. The unyielding cold and hard grounded him.

In the deepest dead of night the heavy cloak of noiseless introspection was broken by the chittering calls of an approaching pack of night creatures. Adrian was up in an instant, scenting and pinpointing their location. He slipped out of the tree and quickly shook Trevor and Sypha awake, putting a finger to his lips to indicate they should be quiet and disappearing from their sides to confront the creatures himself. He hoped to buy enough time for Trevor to ready his weapons and for Sypha to be ready to cast.

It was a much larger pack than their last encounter. Adrian grew wary as he saw the lumbering form of a minotaur among them, its horned head towering as high as the small trees in the area. It was flanked by more of the fire-breathing, winged creatures they had fought before, and through the underbrush Adrian saw the quick shapes of several dog-like beasts on all fours, each possessed of a long, wicked spiked tail and considerable talons. Some smaller creatures were with them, but they were still hidden by the trees and difficult to identify from his present distance.

He was surprised to see such a large number of creatures all together this far into the wilderness. They had made good progress in their travels that day, but they still had at least another full day or two of riding, maybe more before they reached the village. He expected something like this the following night, but not yet. It had him wondering if his father may be watching their progress from his Carpathian mirror; that was the only logical conclusion he could draw for the presence of so many monsters heading directly towards them.

There was nothing for it, they would have to defeat these creatures here and now.

As the first wave of beasts came through the trees Adrian was ready, sword hovering at his right side, heart rabbiting at his breast though he was confident they would be victorious. He flew forward and immediately set to causing as much damage as efficiently as possible. His blade sliced into undead meat, stabbing the first creature clear through before his weapon returned to his hand and he was little more than a blur of movement. He heard the _whoosh_ of Trevor’s Morning Star to his right, and saw the flashes of Sypha’s spells to his left. They managed the first creatures well enough, and before long there were many charred and stinking corpses piling around them.

The monsters were more organized than previous packs. Before Dracula lost his army and his generals the creatures had been produced by the hundreds and it was clear that the necromancer had put more focus on numbers than quality. These new ones were made with far more care. They were larger, stronger. They were faster as well, and much to the trio’s misfortune, they seemed to both understand their shouted communications and possess strategy. Adrian watched with growing concern as they worked together, ganging up on each of them and successfully countering attacks which their predecessors would have succumbed to. Adrian was moving like lightening, his figure little more than a flash of silver sword and gold hair as he cut them down as fast as he could. They were avoiding him, focusing on Sypha, who’s attacks were becoming more stilted as she was forced to defend herself.

They were separating each of them away from one another, Adrian realized after another moment.

Trevor realized it too, evidently. “Don’t let them separate us!” he shouted, his whip smashing into the skull of a dog-beast and sending it erupting in flames. He was immediately swarmed by a mass of smaller bat-monsters. They got too close for him to be able to use the whip, and he was forced to draw his sword and focus on clearing them before he could continue his larger scale attacks.

Adrian took his wolf form, teeth sinking deeply into the throat of one fire-breathing beast as his sword cut the wings off the next one over. He smelled his fur singeing in their blue flames before he could evade, but at least the one he was attacking ceased screeching, its head hanging from its body by a thin stretch of flesh and little else. It collapsed, but Adrian had no chance to savour the small victory, because he could see that they were losing and needed to do something to gain the upper hand or they were going to have to flee. Already the distance between each of them had grown and he could scarcely keep track of Trevor for the sea of monsters between them. He shifted back to his human shape and delivered a crushing kick to the next beast that flew at him, knocking it to the side and stabbing it with his sword. He was forced back several paces by more of the same creatures taking its place, and he realized that he had lost sight of Trevor, and he could smell his blood through the reek of death and gore that filled the air.

He had little opportunity to consider his options before the minotaur uprooted and entire tree and began to swing it in wide, destructive arcs. Sypha was flinging ice daggers at everything that came within her range, and blasting fire in between to push the circle of monsters back so she could cast more attacks. She didn’t see the huge tree being swung towards her until the last second. Eyes wide she froze as it closed in on her.

Adrian acted purely on impulse, quickly disappearing in a tall fiery column and reappearing between Sypha and the tree trunk before it could hit her. It struck him in the back and he stood his ground as pain blossomed and the impact forced his teeth to snap together so hard he nearly severed his own tongue. The tree splintered around his body. The breath was knocked from him and he felt wood stabbing through his clothes, scraping and bruising him beneath the force of the blow. He nearly lost his footing, but he redoubled his efforts, determined to keep Sypha safe. His feet skidded through the dirt and dried leaves and he ended up standing inches from Sypha, who stared at him for only a fraction of a second before she sent a blast of fire over his shoulder at the minotaur. It roared, a low, grating noise that sent all the smaller creatures flying at the pair in unison. Adrian whirled on them, cutting the first wave down with his sword. He had no time to consider the searing pain that he knew indicated he was injured. It didn’t matter. No matter the severity of the wound it would heal.

He called magic to him once more, finding it came easily when the need was great and time short. The sinister glow of his flames reflected in the eyes of the creatures before him, making them look eerie in the surrounding darkness. He sent Hellfire into the center of the mass, three large fireballs sailing through them and leaving a burning trail of singed and wailing demons in their path. Sypha chased it with more fire, widening the channel of death until they could see Trevor on the other side, surrounded by several of the winged monsters, who were backing him into the thicker trees where his weapon was less deadly.

The minotaur was grabbing small trees and large boulders and hurling them quickly, and Sypha used a wall of thick ice to shield them both as they looked at one another for a moment then back at Trevor.

“Go, I’ve got these guys,” she said to him, demonstrating that she was quite capable of holding her own by relieving an entire group of monsters of their heads with a sharp sheet of ice, following that up with a wall of flames that engulfed the corpses like a reeking, macabre funeral pyre. Adrian found himself smiling at the image of Sypha wreathed in power and carnage. She was like a goddess of destruction and he was just thankful that they were fighting on the same side.

Adrian could not be in two places at once, but he had to trust Sypha – after all he had sworn that he would never doubt her – so he flew through the channel of writhing monsters, sword ahead of him, claws out to catch anything that came at him before it could make contact. He felt himself being slashed and singed in several places, but he made it to Trevor at the same moment the minotaur launched a man-sized stone through the air towards his back. He was surrounded by the fire breathing winged beasts and Adrian knew he would not see the boulder.

He couldn’t risk being struck by the Morning Star, so teleportation was out of the question. Instead he was forced to use all his available speed, blurring out of view entirely and leaping at the boulder, knocking it off-course with his already wounded left shoulder before it could strike the hunter. He landed hard, panting from the exertion, his hand clutching at his arm, which was slow to respond to his movements. It was numbing, his fingers slick with his own blood. The stone careened harmlessly into the forest. Trevor saw him but barely reacted, his whip making sweeping arcs through the attackers and his sword picking off any he missed. He was bleeding from several slashes on his hands and arms, and something had hit him in the face, but he didn’t appear seriously hurt so far. Adrian sent another Hellfire blast into the circle of demons, incinerating some of them and giving Trevor a chance to beat back the rest and step closer to the dhampir. He felt a tremble run through his body, the use of so much magic and speed compounded with his wounds leaving him in need of a moment to recuperate.

The minotaur picked up another tree, a very large one this time, and brought it down over Adrian, trying to squash him with it. He barely evaded the strike, feeling the wind of it on his skin as the ground where he’d been standing erupted with the blow. He leapt forwards and phased out of view, reappearing behind the horned giant. He stabbed it in the back and the end of his sword stuck in the bone, costing him seconds as he struggled to pull it free while the creature thrashed madly and summoned the other demons to its aid.

Suddenly it lurched, its movements becoming awkward and jerky. Sypha had frozen one of its feet to the forest floor. She gave Adrian a cocky wink and cast her holy spell on the beast. It froze in place, jaw slack, eyes focused on something neither of them could see. It was enough time for Adrian to get his weapon free and chop its head off in one clean and satisfying strike. The massive head struck the ground and rolled, taking out some smaller creatures before coming to rest in a leaking heap near where Trevor was still cutting through the latest wave of enemies.

They were growing thinner, and weaker, many of them wounded. With the loss of the minotaur they became frenzied and less organized, and Adrian knew they now had the upper hand. He began to dispatch every creature he came across, watching as his companions did the same.

He hopped off of the slumped corpse of the giant and joined Sypha as they dispatched the remaining monsters on their way to where Trevor was working through the last of the others.

Another few minutes and the forest was silent save the moans and whines of the last dying creatures.

Sypha and Trevor met Adrian in the middle of the carnage, the trio completely covered in gore and black ichor, and Trevor bleeding from his superficial wounds. It looked like his nose could be broken, his lips and chin dark with his own blood which was coming from it in a copious stream. Sypha had brain matter in her hair and a splatter of burnt flesh clinging to her robes but at least it appeared she was unhurt. Adrian thought he probably looked much the same as Trevor, the minotaur’s blood soaking him through. Steam was rising from his shoulders as the blood cooled rapidly in the chill night. Now that the frenzy of battle had passed he could inspect the large wound across his left arm and back from where he’d taken the blow to spare Sypha. It was bleeding, red soaking rapidly through his already filthy shirt and dripping from his hand and arm.

“Gross,” Sypha said, picking the burnt goop from her clothing and flicking it away. She eyed Adrian’s dripping hand. “Are you hurt?” she asked, moving closer to inspect him, calling up a fireball for light.

“It will heal,” he said, but he could feel the large, long gash stretching from his arm across his back. He removed his coat, trying to twist to see. He could make out the white of a rib through the deepest part of the injury. Well, that explained why it hurt so much. Sypha looked a bit ill, her hands hovering nervously near the wound as if she wanted to do something but knew she couldn’t.

Trevor was still panting hard, his teeth stained pink and his eyes gleaming white against the blood all over his face. He wiped his sword on the grass and sheathed it, curling up the Morning Star and securing it at his hip. It was dripping with monster blood. Adrian’s sword was in a similar state.

“Trevor, your nose,” Sypha said, looking between her two injured men.

Trevor poked at it gingerly and stifled a wince. “Shit,” he said, his eyes watering. “Could be broken, but if it is it’s not that bad. I’ll be okay once the bleeding stops.”

Adrian could easily smell Trevor’s blood through the thick and overpowering scent of all the dead beasts and he was alarmed at just how much was coming from the man’s face. Trevor didn’t seem especially concerned, but he reminded himself to keep a close watch in case he got lightheaded or dizzy in the next few minutes. At present Adrian needed to focus on healing the bone-deep gash which was stinging terribly and costing him a great deal of blood of his own. He closed his eyes, focusing on the deepest layers of flesh and healed them, the pain intense enough that the healing didn’t tickle, rather it zinged as if he’d struck a nerve. The sensation lessened as the open air was no longer on his insides and he sighed, feeling drained from blood loss and the use of his magic. Trevor’s blood smelled both mouthwatering and inviting, and Adrian had to blink the red from his eyes and look elsewhere for several seconds as he quelled a wave of thirst which swept through him.

There was a rustling and all three whirled, expecting another monster. Trevor redrew his sword, Adrian prepared to fly forward and attack, and Sypha summoned a spear of ice.

A brown and white beast trotted from between the trees, stubby tail twitching behind it. The goat stopped when it saw the trio and gave them a _baaahhhhh_ which could be interpreted in a variety of ways, then it snorted and turned tail, trotting back into the underbrush, chewed lead dragging behind it.

Adrian realized that he hadn’t seen it most of the night. He’d forgotten about it after they settled around the fire. It was very possible that the horde had been attracted to them by the animal wandering freely around the forest, making noise and spreading the scent of livestock and humans in a wide circle which made them easy to detect. He couldn’t specifically prove that it was the goat’s fault they had been attacked, but looking at the hateful creature, he wanted to believe it was her fault.

“I hate that fucking thing,” Trevor said under his breath, wiping the slowing trickle of blood from his face with his sleeve.

Adrian laughed at the absurdity of one little animal being so much trouble.

Sypha didn’t say a single word.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was fun to read, I had this odd sense of humour when I began and it really bled through into the first half. I have no idea why I keep writing about the goat. I almost named her. I also couldn't resist throwing in that bit about the coffins and some of the corny jokes that came with it
> 
> I am so amazed by all of the wonderful support and commentary I have received recently. I believe this chapter breaks 200k words, which is almost double the size of anything I have written before. I'm surprised at myself, and really excited to keep going. I have all these little brainchildren that come to me when I'm driving or working or doing mundane and unrelated things, and I scribble them down with the hope that I will still remember them properly when I get to the place they will be relevant. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this I would love to hear your thoughts! I often go back and read through the comments to help motivate myself to continue, and to get a better feel for where I have been successful, and where I can improve. Thank you for looking, and more will come soon!


	25. Part Twenty-Five

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Five**

By the time they caught the goat and returned to their camp reeking of monster guts and sulfur, the sky was growing a pale grey in the east. The battle had spanned a huge area, and the corpses were certainly going to attract carrion feeders and insects, and more night creatures. It was necessary to put distance between themselves and the site of the fighting, and quickly.

They made a hasty exit as dawn approached, and by the time the sun had fully risen the carnage was left behind them and they were well on their way. The monsters had trampled much of the nearby forest and killed a lot of animals. The horses were nervous and Adrian had to walk in front and hold their leads, keeping them from bolting every time a twig snapped or a bird suddenly took flight. Sypha had her beloved goat bundled into the back of the wagon where she could keep a close eye on her. She’d decided that the creature had earned the right to be named, and after a little deliberation had dubbed her ‘Daisy’. Trevor and Adrian shared a look of disbelief which bordered on disgust as Sypha fawned over the confounded animal and snuck her handfuls of oats which were supposed to be reserved for the horses.

The light frost melted as the sun crested over the treetops, and Adrian squinted and kept his eyes turned on the ground, wincing at the sear of it on his bare skin. He had removed his coat and shirt, neither wearable until Sypha performed her amazing spell to fix them. His pale chest and shoulders were vulnerable to the light, and his partly healed wound ached when he moved wrong. He could have healed it fully, but he did not want to waste more energy just yet. Blood – both his enemies’ and his own – had dried on his torso and in his hair, leaving him looking a frightful sight. If his companions weren’t also just as filthy he would have been more self-conscious of that fact, but there was nothing they could do save splash a bit of water from their canteens on their faces and at the very least wipe the worst away. Trevor’s nose had thankfully stopped bleeding, and his other superficial scratches and cuts only oozed slightly, most of them already beginning to scab over.

The nights were becoming bitterly cold, but the days were still very warm, hot, even. They were forced to travel wearing the evidence of their battle for another two hours before they came on fresh water where they could finally wash away the now dried on mess clinging to them. They led the horses off the trail and several hundred feet into the trees where they would be far enough from the road to go undetected by any passersby – not that they expected anyone to have survived the wave of death brought by the band of night creatures they had confronted hours earlier.

The horses were thankfully calmer by this time, and were more than happy to be tethered nearby so everyone could rest and clean themselves off. They had come upon a small river which eddied around a bend, creating a reasonably deep pool where they were able to wash. The water was icy cold and fresh, and smelled wonderful to Adrian, who was thoroughly sick of breathing in the scent of dead beasts and dried blood by this time. A large weeping willow tree overhung the bank, long tendrils of pale green reaching down over the water and casting the pool in dappled shade.

“Its really pretty here,” Sypha noted as she worked herself free of her robes. She winced, peeling the fabric gingerly from her arm, the dried demon blood sticking to the fine hairs and yanking at them painfully. Adrian eyed her naked figure. He was unused to seeing her spattered in blood but it only served to further the image he had of her as dangerous and beautiful. By comparison, Trevor always seemed to be wearing either his own blood or some poor beast’s, so it was less of a shock to see him as he was, red marring much of his flesh and dried into his hair.

“I doubt we will hit another wave like that tonight, we should take some time to dry off and sleep,” Trevor suggested as he pulled off his boots and breeches.

Everyone brought their bloodied clothes and weapons downstream and rinsed them clean, staining the water pink until it was washed away by the current. They found sunny places to hang everything to dry.

Adrian stood naked in the mottled shade at the edge of the water. He desperately wanted to be clean and had left his modesty somewhere behind with the sea of monster corpses. His hair had minotaur in it. He curled his lip and waded into the pool, sighing in pleasure at the cold clear water as it swallowed him up to his neck and soothed the healing gash on his back. He dunked his head beneath the surface, his hair billowing around him, floating freely. The river bottom was all rounded stones, and stayed clear even when he stirred things up moving around. He scrubbed his nails through his hair until he was satisfied that not a speck of gore remained, then broke the surface, smoothing his hair back and ringing the water from it.

Trevor and Sypha were a little less quick to jump into the freezing pool. Adrian grinned toothily at them, bobbing in the deepest part and urging them to join him.

“This water is fucking freezing,” Trevor complained, wading in up to his bare thighs and tentatively trying to bring himself to go further.

“Oh Trevor, don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Sypha said sweetly before she made to shove him forward. He was expecting it though, and grabbed her small figure easily, tossing her into the pool beside Adrian with a formidable splash. She screeched from the shock of the cold and clung to Adrian for purchase. Her body felt hot against him and he held her securely with a satisfied smile as Trevor took his time slowly working his way inch by inch into the pool.

“You didn’t actually think I would fall for that,” the hunter laughed and found the courage to wade the rest of the way in before Sypha could seek vengeance.

Eventually they were all clean and standing on the bank, naked and trying to warm up. Trevor and Sypha stuck to the sunniest spot, visibly shivering. Adrian was beside them in the shade of the willow, not bothered by the cold. Being clean was heavenly. He was hungry and tired, but happy. He always felt good after a fight, even if he was wounded. There was something inexplicably satisfying about the fighting itself that left himdeliciously spent and relaxed.The battle had been a challenge and he’d successfully used his magic several times. He was pleased with himself for being able to wield the spells in the heat of the moment, although he could already feel the tug of thirst for having expended so much energy in the last day. His overzealous demonstration from the previous morning had consumed a considerable amount of power. He supposed this was his consequence for being a show-off. He eyed his still healing bite mark on Sypha’s thigh and a different sort of thrill rolled through him, reminding him of her taste and the events which transpired in the cottage.

They laid out some warm blankets and made a fire. Sypha wrapped another blanket around herself and dug through the packs for something to eat. Trevor sank down beside Adrian and threw a blanket over his shoulders, sharing it with him and covering both their nakedness. He yawned and gave the dhampir a contented smile. His injured nose was swollen and angry looking, his eyes starting to blacken beneath as well. Adrian scooted closer to his heat and earned himself a little wince as his skin made contact with the hunter’s.

“Christ, you are almost as cold as the water,” Trevor reprimanded, but wrapped an arm around Adrian’s back and pulled him closer anyway. He allowed himself to be tugged into the warmth of Trevor’s side and relaxed further when he felt strong fingers carding through his damp hair. He could smell Trevor’s blood on his breath – he must have swallowed a great deal of it before the bleeding stopped.

Being stroked and pet was exquisitely pleasant, leaving the blonde lulled, his eyes closed as he was treated to a scalp massage under Trevor’s fingertips. His enjoyment must have shown on his face, no doubt it was slack with his delight. He yawned, finding himself nearly ready for sleep. He’d only had the brief nap the previous afternoon in the last four days – at some point he was going to need more significant rest. He leaned more heavily against Trevor’s chest, soothed by the steady rhythm of his heart and breathing.

He could hear Sypha rummaging around and cracked an eye, watching her pick through her supplies for another robe, which she wrapped around herself and cinched at the waist. She then set water to boil, speeding it along with a flick of her fingertips and a small burst of light. She used some of the water to make tea, and to the rest she added dried bear meat, spices and vegetables, letting it simmer into a soup for their meal. The men were appreciative of her efforts, considering she’d fared the best in the fight and they were both recuperating.

Adrian was slouching into Trevor now, the back of his head resting at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Warm arms wrapped around him from behind, encircling him and propping him in place, the blanket around both of them. Heat from Trevor’s body seeped into him, hopefully easing the shock of his cold skin against the other man’s. He was elated when Trevor gathered up one of his hands and began to work it with his own, kneading his palm, stretching it open and taking the time to attend to each long finger. After Trevor’s incredibly uncensored comments the previous afternoon it was comforting to be able to relax with him and remind himself that not everything had to be focused around sex. This was wonderful and had Adrian lulled almost to the point of dropping off.

“Don’t fall asleep sweetheart, there’s tea and food,” Sypha said from beside him, giving him a smile when she caught his languid expression and the way he was melting against Trevor.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, but it was a lie. Trevor straightened behind him, guiding him back to a more upright position as Sypha pressed a cup of hot tea into his hand. He accepted it and made himself open his eyes and sit up properly so he didn’t spill it, though he was still leaning into the hunter. He sipped the hot beverage, allowing it to further warm him, the heat spreading from his middle outward as the cup helped take the chill from his fingers.

Sypha sidled up to them both as they waited for the meal to be ready, tossing her blanket over Trevor’s back and kissing him on the cheek. “Your nose looks awful,” she commented, reaching out to poke at the swollen appendage.

“Ow! That fucking hurts!” he complained, trying to twist away from her fingertip and nearly making Adrian spill his tea in the process. He cupped his injured face protectively and Adrian roused himself and turned to get a better look at it, shifting between the hunter’s legs, ignoring their nakedness for the time being. The blanket slid from his shoulders, pooling around his waist.

“Can I examine it?” he asked, pausing with his hand midway to Trevor’s face. Trevor pulled back, evidently not wanting to be prodded and poked. Adrian gave him a disarming smile. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

After another moment of wary consideration Trevor slowly withdrew his hand. “I’m not above staking you,” he growled in empty warning, but submitted to being looked over.

Adrian was true to his word – he was very gentle in his examination, slowly and carefully tracing his fingers over the swollen flesh. It was impossible to tell for certain with all the inflammation, but if there was a break it was something that did not need to be set. He finished by placing a feather light kiss on Trevor’s nose. “I think you just need to ice it to help with the swelling. Sypha could you make ice for him?” he looked to her and she produced a piece of ice which had a small depression for his nose.

A few minutes later Trevor had been coaxed into laying his head in Sypha’s lap, the ice already helping with the pain of his injury, a blanket thrown over his middle and his feet draped over Adrian’s legs. Adrian and Sypha were sipping tea and Sypha was raking her fingers though Trevor’s hair. Adrian didn’t have any extra clothing, so he was still keeping the other blanket around himself, his modesty slowly coming back and making it feel odd to be naked in the woods.

“How is you back?” Sypha asked him, drawing his gaze up from where he’d been studying the bubbling soup pot and trying to stay awake.

“Its healing,” he assured her. Even without intentional, focused healing, his body did not take very long to recover from wounds by comparison to humans. The injury was already looking a little better, and the pain was less. It was still very deep, but it had closed a bit more, the layers of muscle beginning to knit together. At the shallowest edges his skin was starting to draw closed, especially the portion that reached to his left arm. The part over his shoulder blade where it was most severe stung in the open air and looked raw and angry. He expected that part would be somewhat better in another few hours.

Sypha finished her tea and set down her cup. She glanced at the blonde and her hand came to her throat, fingertips sliding gently over the skin, drawing his eyes to the flutter of her pulse. “Do you need-”

“I’m alright,” he said quickly, curling his fingers over hers and pulling them away from her neck. He knew that he needed blood, but he could not bring himself to accept it from her again so soon. His fangs gave a hearty throb, reminding him that he _was_ thirsty, but he still refused. He would rest and have soup and hunt something later on to sate himself. There had been no discussion about whether Adrian would give up animal blood entirely in favour of the far more palatable option of feeding from his lovers, but he had assumed that biting Sypha was a one-time thing, or that it would be done only sparingly to keep him in good fighting condition when they got to the castle.

It was still very strange to think that biting her was even an option; doing it once had broken the ice, but it did not absolve him of his feelings on the matter in general, nor did it erase the awkwardness he felt at discussing it.

Sypha studied him for a long moment, a little wrinkle between her furrowed brows. “I thought you were going to let me do this for you,” she said finally, sounding almost disappointed.

Adrian was particularly susceptible to the slightly pouting, sad expression he received from her. He realized that he couldn’t win – he would feel guilty if he accepted, and now she was going to make him feel guilty if he refused. That was alright; he was happy to shoulder the small burden of guilt if it meant establishing some important boundaries that would keep Sypha safe. He squeezed her hand in his. “I didn’t think you meant every time Sypha, that’s not good for you. I will hunt later.”

She looked at their clasped hands, obviously thinking about when he had bitten her. “It was over so quickly last time. I-” a rare blush spread over her cheeks, clashing with her freckles and the copper of her hair. She met his eyes, looking uncharacteristically bashful. “I want you to do it again.”

He hadn’t expected that. He swept a helpless glance in Trevor’s direction as though the hunter would bail him out. He was watching their exchange, but he wasn’t saying anything. He was leaving Adrian to handle this one on his own.

“I think it would be best to hold off for now,” Adrian said finally, releasing her hand. “The soup will be ready soon. Actually, I was hoping you would show me how to do the spell to repair clothing? We seem to be especially good at destroying our clothes and I’d like to be able to perform the spell myself.”

Sypha’s eyes lit up and the sad look melted from her features in favour of an eager expression. “Of course I can teach you. Now?”

Trevor shifted, sitting up, still holding the ice to his nose. He stirred the pot of soup. “This needs awhile before it will be ready, I’ll keep an eye on it for you,” he offered. “It would be nice to have something dry to wear,” he added, gesturing at his fur cloak on a nearby tree branch, which was stained pink and so laden with water that it was making the branch bow alarmingly. “If we were ambushed right now Adrian and I would have to fight naked. While I _do_ look fucking _fetching_ in only a sword belt, it’s probably a bad idea. Nowhere to hide all my knives,” he laughed at his own terrible joke and Sypha muttered something derogatory under her breath as she got up, dusting leaves off of her robe.

Adrian tried to hide his smile, peering at Trevor, who was already looking at him. They locked eyes for a moment and then Sypha was tugging at his arm, already explaining the spell. Adrian wrapped the blanket around his waist and followed her. He was grateful that his attempt at distraction had worked.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian and Sypha crouched together over the pattern traced in the earth, some of their clothing in the middle. It had been ages since Adrian had learned a new spell and never from anyone but his father. Even though he was tired, he was eager to learn. Sypha was a surprisingly effective teacher despite the differences in the way each of them approached magic, and in no time he was following her example and restoring their clothing a piece at a time. He was already wearing his breeches once more, and was presently working on Trevor’s fur cloak.

When all of their clothes were clean, dry, and repaired Adrian found himself even more exhausted from repeatedly performing the spell, but far more comfortable. He was once again dressed in his usual attire as Sypha looped her elbow through his arm and leaned against his uninjured side. “That was fun. I’m glad we can do some of the same spells, even if they are only the boring ones. It’s nice to do magic together.”

“It is, thank you for teaching me, Sypha,” he said to her and surprised her by scooping her off her feet and carrying her princess style back towards the campfire. She felt lovely in his grasp; small and warm. She laughed and wound her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him.

He met Sypha’s lips, holding her closer and returning her kiss readily. When they broke apart he nosed her gently and peppered smaller kisses over her cheeks and the soft skin of her eyelids before dipping back to capture her mouth with his own. He stopped a few feet outside of the circle around the fire, preoccupied by the sorceress in his arms and the way her tongue was laving along his bottom lip and seeking entry to his mouth.

He willingly opened himself to her and their tongues brushed together in a now-familiar action which left both of them breathing harder. Sypha’s fingers curled into the hair at the base of Adrian’s skull and tugged, urging him to give her better access to his mouth so she could explore him more thoroughly. He obliged and she began to kiss him in earnest, pressing her tongue to the face of a fang and licking up towards the root, making his teeth itch with the desire to bite. He remembered the exchange they had shared in the Belmont Hold, when she had curiously explored his fangs and watched the immediate reaction that resulted from the attention. She knew what she was doing.

He caught her eyes in question and she pointedly repeated the movement, her tongue playing against his sharp canine, pressing against it and stimulating the very sensitive nerves in his gums. She smiled, satisfied by the tinge of red she’d managed to bring to the whites of his eyes, but he hesitated, uncomfortable because he had specifically told her he would not bite her.

She leaned up to bring their mouths together again and Adrian met her lips in answer, unwilling to let her go. Her fingers delved more deeply into his hair, her nails pressing lightly into his scalp. He purred into her mouth, enjoying the attention and the sensation of her small body in his arms.

She sucked his mouth against her own and Adrian was quite happy to let her devour him, her scent and taste filling his senses. When she nicked her bottom lip on the sharp tip of one of his fangs Adrian’s eyes widened as the taste of her blood was suddenly on his tongue. At first he thought that he’d accidentally caught her lip during their kiss, but it quickly became clear that it had been intentional. She broke away to offer him a clear view of the blood welling from the small puncture. His eyes were glued to her mouth as her tongue darted out and suggestively licked at the bead of red, then she pressed her lips together so they were coated in it before tugging him down towards her once more. He was too surprised to do more than acquiesce.

He found himself surrounded by the scent of her blood, the flavour of it on both their breath already. He jerked back from her once he gathered his wits, dropping her in his haste to put distance between them. She caught her balance, grabbing his arm to steady herself.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, anger edging into his voice. His eyes were on her reddened mouth, helplessly watching another fat drop well from the injury and slide down her chin. He was quite suddenly aware of just how thirsty he was. Saliva flowed in anticipation, forcing him to swallow it back as the sound of her pulse drummed obtusely in his ears. He pushed her quickly away, aggravated that she had ignored his earlier refusal and taken it upon herself to try and tempt him into feeding in such an underhanded manner.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, trying both to decide what to do and rid himself of his body’s unwelcome response. Naturally, he wanted to gather her back into his grasp and take what was so blatantly being offered, but he was incensed that she’d done it when he had clearly told her he would hunt for himself.

“Adrian it’s alright,” she soothed, stepping closer to him and putting a hand on his upper arm. “I’ll be fine.”

It took a great deal of effort to force his instinct down but he did, pulling her hand away and holding her at arm’s length with perhaps more strength than was strictly necessary as he warred silently with himself. He refused to meet her eyes. After several long moments he released her, striding past her towards where Trevor was watching the exchange, although it was not clear what he’d been able to see as they’d been close together and Sypha’s back shielded his view. Sypha rubbed her arm where his hand had gripped her too tightly.

He quietly seated himself in front of the fire on Trevor’s left, accepting a mug of soup in his hands. He thought he’d managed to clear the red from his eyes, but Trevor was an observant man and Adrian knew that he had seen at least some part of what had transpired and had certainly heard his angry reaction.

Sypha wisely sat on Trevor’s right, allowing Adrian space to cool off. He watched her out of the corner of his eye but refused to look at her, opting to glare at his soup instead. He curled his knees close to himself and hunched his shoulders, his hair mostly obscuring his face from her view.

Sypha tossed Trevor his newly repaired breeches and helped herself to a mug of soup. He quickly pulled the clothing on, his gaze lingering on the obvious trail of red that went from her mouth to her chin.

The trio sipped soup in absolute silence and finally Trevor made a loud, obtuse sigh and looked between them. “For fuck’s sake. Out with it,” he chided like he was talking to two squabbling children. “I’m looking forward to some sleep and cuddling with both of you so please deal with your shit.”

Adrian chanced a glance in Sypha’s direction, feeling bad for putting Trevor in the middle. There was a red lip print on her soup mug; he immediately wished he hadn’t looked.

Trevor eyed Adrian, then Sypha. He leaned towards her and used his thumb to wipe the blood from her chin, staring at the mess disdainfully before wiping it on the leg of his pants. Adrian decided not to mention how that only served to make the smell of her blood even more prominent. Sypha, in turn, cast a hangdog look at the blonde, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought-

“That you could provoke me into biting you even though I said no?” Adrian quipped sharply, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

Beneath the somewhat guilty expression on Sypha’s face was resistance. He could see that she wasn’t ready to give up so easily. She nodded. “You always deny yourself. I thought it would make it easier if I… offered encouragement.”

Adrian stared at her for a drawn out moment with an unreadable expression before looking back to the pot of soup over the fire. He wanted to snap a scathing retort at her and stomp away, but stopped himself, brooding over how he should respond instead. He finally sighed and set down his mug, slowly meeting her eyes. “Sypha, biting and blood drinking aren’t a novelty you can play with. It’s not a game. It’s how I eat.”

The mage was quick to defend her actions, her small fingers gripping her cup tightly, large blue eyes watery and managing to make Adrian feel guilty for scolding her even though it was more than justified. “But- before… it was so intense, you can’t tell me that was just eating. It was more than that. And your shoulder still looks awful; that’s because you don’t want to use too much energy, because then you will need more blood, isn’t it? So why won’t you take some of mine?”

Adrian looked at her again – another long stare – his mouth pressed into a thin line. He knew the expression made him look like his mother used to when she was disappointed with him. That look made him want to dig a hole to hide in until the shame abated. He tried to soften his face, peering into his cup. Trevor subtly slid a hand onto Adrian’s thigh, giving him a light squeeze of support.

“It was intense for me too. I- I’m not refusing to ever do it again, but I didn’t intend to make a habit of it. I can’t rely on the people I love for sustenance, Sypha. It’s confusing for me to think of you that way, it’s uncomfortable. And I _like_ hunting. Did you think I would no longer feed from animals?”

Sypha scowled, evidently offended. “You would rather drink animal blood that doesn’t satisfy you than mine? Was my blood… not good? Is something wrong with it?”

He snorted reflexively, because that was preposterous. “Of course not. There is literally no comparison, but I will happily hunt animals to avoid putting your health at risk. It would make you weak and sick if I fed from you regularly.”

The Speaker refuted him, unconvinced. “You said before that you don’t need very much, even less than a full vampire. I won’t be harmed from the little bit it would take to at least heal your shoulder properly.”

Adrian could feel his frustration mounting; it stirred him uncomfortably. She was not hearing him. She was missing the pertinent part of what he was saying and he didn’t know how to make her understand what he could barely grasp himself. “Sypha it’s not your decision. You can’t force me to do it just because you think I should. I would appreciate if you would never do that again,” he said with finality, unable to muster the words to explain further. He wasn’t certain how to make it more clear than he already had.

Sypha’s lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly, and Adrian got the sense she felt terrible, but also was pouting because she didn’t get what she wanted. “Okay,” she said softly, still looking chastised and rubbing her arm. “I’m sorry Adrian.”

“Thank you,” he said, a small, forced smile working its way over his features. He was willing to try to put it behind him, but he was still uneasy about what had transpired. He looked at his empty cup and went in for seconds, ladling hot soup into it and taking a mouthful.

Trevor gave Adrian’s thigh a harder squeeze, drawing his attention. His nose looked better after the application of ice, although he was well on his way to having two black eyes. He nodded slightly when their eyes met, but the dhampir only lowered his gaze back to the fire, swallowing from his mug and trying to feel satisfied by the paltry warmth in his belly.

He questioned whether he’d handled the situation properly. His eyes wandered to Sypha’s lower lip, which still sported the fresh puncture and residual blood smeared on her chin. Despite his position on the matter, the temptation she presented was great, and he was partly scolding himself for not being more willing to accept her offer. Her blood would thoroughly satisfy the gnawing hunger that was becoming more insistent by the hour.

Adrian knew he was masterful at denying himself; squashing down his instincts into a tiny corner and ignoring them felt normal. It was giving in which was more difficult, the idea stirring a sense of awkward self-loathing, even now. Refusal was simply ingrained into him through years of practice and he defaulted to that almost without consideration.

After the soup was finished Adrian found himself yawning and once more leaning into Trevor, who was all too happy to throw an arm around him and resume the pleasant stroking of his hair like he had done earlier. Adrian nearly crawled into his lap, content to be lavished with attention and try to forget what transpired.

“I’m really tired,” he admitted after his third yawn in as many minutes. “I haven’t been sleeping very much.”

Trevor kissed the crown of his head. Adrian could hear him inhale as he did; he wondered what he smelled like. “May as well catch up while you can. C’mon, let’s have a nap.”

Adrian was aware of Sypha watching them as they fiddled with the blankets and Trevor grabbed his newly cleaned and dried fur cloak for them to use as a pillow. The hunter got into a comfortable position, making a space beside him for Adrian to lay. The blonde shed his jacket, gloves, and boots, carefully placing them in a neatly folded pile out of the way. As he laid down Trevor pulled a blanket over them both and his large arm wrapped around Adrian’s middle, tugging him tightly into his naked chest while being careful of his injury. He could feel the hunter’s steady heartbeat at his back – a soothing and familiar cadence – all that was missing was Sypha’s warmth on his other side. He flicked his gaze to where she still sat with her mug in hand and a disheartened expression on her face.

She was obviously feeling put out because of what had transpired between them. Adrian found himself second-guessing how he’d handled it, wondering if he had been unreasonable. His relationship with blood was a little messed up and he really felt like there were no right answers.

“Sypha,” he said gently. “Come lay with us.”

Her lower lip seemed on the verge of trembling. “I should check on the animals first and make sure Daisy isn’t going to chew through her lead again,” she said distractedly, rising and heading over to where they were hobbled.

Adrian sighed, guilt and uncertainty coursing through him.

Trevor’s hand tugged Adrian’s bicep, urging him to turn around. He shifted gingerly onto his other side and found himself face to face with the hunter, looking right into his eyes. He studied the scar over Trevor’s brow and cheek, a faintly discoloured line in the otherwise tanned flesh. The top of the scar disappeared behind the long strands of his hair that always fell into his face. Under his eye it was obscured by the bruising of his broken nose. Adrian nuzzled closer, hiding his face against Trevor’s prickly cheek. “Maybe I should have just done it anyway,” he said, voice muffled.

“Then why didn’t you?” the hunter asked, offering Adrian a chance to talk through it. His large hand curled around Adrian’s waist, the warm, calloused palm pleasantly rough even through his shirt.

“I was angry,” he admitted. He really did not like feeling that way; he never had. Anger wasn’t a comfortable emotion for Adrian, but now it bubbled in his guts and he didn’t know what to do with it. “She tried to manipulate me into doing what she wanted even when I said no. I thought she respected me more than that.”

Trevor’s hand came to rest over the crest of one hip, squeezing lightly. His face was close, warm exhales tickling and stirring a few strands of blonde hair. “She’s stubborn, Adrian. And stupidly fearless, and sometimes she doesn’t think things through before she does them, but I honestly don’t think she meant to act selfishly, even though it came off like that. She was trying to help, in her own way.”

Adrian considered what Trevor was saying. He understood how their mutual partner could be at times, but he wasn’t satisfied by simply believing that she meant well. She had blatantly ignored his wishes and feelings. It certainly seemed selfish and disrespectful to him. He sighed again, louder this time. He rolled onto his back, wincing at the pain that flared from his gouged shoulder and looked up at the bright sky, his mind racing. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the light as he attempted to organize his thoughts.

“I can take care of myself, Trevor. I don’t need to be fed like a pet. It’s insulting.”

The hunter’s grip on his hip tightened reassuringly. “I know that and so does Syph. But give us some credit; we can tell when you’re thirsty. And you know as well as I do that you’re never going to ask for blood.”

Trevor was correct; he wouldn’t ask, even if he was thoroughly starved. He had too much pride to do something like that. He was used to hunting for himself at his own leisure, not begging a meal off of the people closest to him like some kind of parasite. What he had said to Sypha before had been true as well; he was uncomfortable and confused since breaking his blood fast. He cared deeply for his two human partners and it was difficult to think about them as a source of blood. “I can’t do that, I don’t like to think of you that way,” he said finally.

Trevor’s palm slid along Adrian’s torso until it was splayed over his sternum, over his heart. “A lot has changed really fast. I don’t blame you for not knowing what to think about it. I understand what you were trying to explain to Sypha before. You’re uncomfortable looking at her, or us, like food, right?”

Adrian felt himself stiffen, sliding his arm away from his eyes and turning his head to look at the man beside him once more. He’d tried to explain exactly that to Sypha, but Trevor managed to phrase it plainly and effectively and hearing it aloud made him want to squirm with a guilty sort of discomfort. It was uncanny how astute the last Belmont could be sometimes. He felt very exposed under the scrutiny of keen blue eyes which seemed to lay him bare with next to no effort. He couldn’t seem to find his voice – it always deserted him in these moments, especially with Trevor. He broke the stare, studying the hunter’s scarred chest rather than let himself be picked apart by those eyes any longer.

The hand on him made comforting circles over his breast, smoothing across his pectorals and upwards past the deep neckline of his shirt, caressing the side of his neck affectionately. He felt Trevor’s thumb working along the ridge of his clavicle, the rough fingertips sliding over his skin. He sighed at the contact, beginning to relax.

Trevor’s hand slid higher, cupping his cheek and tilting his face so they were looking at one another again. Adrian could see the wheels turning behind the man’s eyes, shrewdness never abating despite the way he was soothing Adrian’s nerves with his fingers. The hunter brought their mouths together, lips meeting in an unexpectedly tender kiss.

Trevor took his time with it, conveying understanding in a way that felt deeper than words alone could manage. When they broke apart Adrian found himself trying to get closer, rolling back onto his side to face Trevor properly.

“We’ll figure it out,” the brunet said, speaking quietly as he pushed a lock of blonde out of his face.

His eyes fell shut, long lashes brushing his cheeks. His fingers curled against Trevor’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He was tired, sore, and thirsty, and he wished that he could just go to sleep and worry about this later, but it seemed that the hunter had more to say.

“A lot of shit has changed lately. My perspective has changed. I see you differently, and I want to understand you, even though some stuff still freaks me out,” he shifted slightly, moving back a few inches so he could see Adrian’s face more clearly. “When we were in the Hold after that big argument, Syph said it wasn’t fair to always make you do everything the human way, because you aren’t only human. She said blood is important to vampires and that sharing it means something. At the time I thought that was nuts, but now it seems… less crazy. When you fed from Syph you just… lit up. You were immediately more… I don’t know, more alive, or something. Stronger. Happy.”

Adrian stared at Trevor for a long moment, barely breathing. “Are you saying that you _want_ me to drink human blood? Sypha’s blood?”

Trevor swallowed, looking a little nervous. “Yeah, I guess I am. If all you need is a small amount, and it doesn’t harm her, then it doesn’t seem that bad. It’s obviously- uh- good for you.”

Adrian mulled over Trevor’s words, surprised at his honesty. “I don’t know if I can do that,” he admitted. “When I bit Sypha it brought up a lot of instincts I’m not used to. I’m very practiced at ignoring most of that; I hardly think about it anymore. Suddenly it’s all there again, stronger than before, and more complicated because we are involved emotionally as well. It feels… out of control. The things I think… I wish I could turn them off.”

Trevor listened attentively and took time before answering, smoothing his thumb over Adrian’s knuckles thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize you were having such a hard time with it.”

Adrian looked away, his eyes falling on the hickeys he’d made on Trevor’s neck the day before. As if on cue, he felt his belly tighten shamefully at the sight of the marks that he’d left on his partner. He was reminded of laying between Trevor and Sypha the night after he’d fed from her, and how rampantly aroused he’d been, how his thoughts had been embarrassing and impossible to control.While Trevor knew that leaving marks had an effect on Adrian, he was at a loss to really communicate the extent of it because it was disgraceful and inhuman to be excited by those things. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wilted a little under the hunter’s gaze, pulling his eyes away from the bruised patches of skin.

Trevor watched him brood, interrupting the silence only after it had gone unbroken for several minutes. “Adrian I can’t read your mind.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, caught up in his thoughts. He pulled his hand free and rubbed his face, fingers raking into his hair and gripping it, body taut. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” Trevor said simply, tugging Adrian’s hand from his hair and splaying their palms against one another, fingers mirroring each other.

Adrian’s hands were a little longer than Trevor’s, more slender. His nail beds were narrow and delicate, each nail smooth and clean, the tips evenly rounded. Trevor’s nails were bitten and jagged. One of his thumbs had been smashed at some point and the nail was blackened from the old injury. There was dirt deeply worked into the tiny lines between his fingerprints and the creases of his knuckles, and the muscles in his palm and fingers were well-developed from holding weapons. Adrian examined the contrast of their skin, his own a nearly pallid white when placed beside the deep tan of the hunter’s flesh. He had no blemishes, scars or callouses, but the hunter had all of the above, a few cuts in varying stages of healing, several old scars, and one of his knuckles was misshapen from where it had healed badly after a break.

Adrian stared at their two very different hands together, completely at a loss. He tentatively glanced away from their joined palms, into intelligent blue eyes.

“I would never suggest anything I thought might put Sypha in danger,” Trevor said seriously. “I trust you. I…” he paused, his heartbeat picking up speed as he gripped Adrian’s hand tightly and squeezed hard. “I fuckin’ love you okay?” he said quickly, his cheeks suddenly burning, embarrassed at the words. “I want you to feel good. I want you and Syph to be happy. Y’know, if we’re gonna do like she said and try to- uh- to have a f-family one day, we should be less fucked up, right?”

Adrian was more than a little stunned to hear these things coming from Trevor’s mouth. His natural reaction told him to refuse this implicitly and insist he was fine doing things as he had always done them, but he had to consider that the man before him had made some very sizeable changes himself in terms of acceptance and understanding recently. He was _really_ trying.

He looked extremely uneasy with talking about his feelings, but his eyes were honest and clear.

Adrian nodded slowly.

When Trevor released his hand he traced his fingers along the man’s face, pushing his bangs from his eyes and carefully memorizing every feature.

“I’ve never heard you talk about the future before,” he observed in a soft tone.

“Didn’t see the point. Never expected to live this long. I mostly assumed I’d freeze to death drunk one night and that would be the end of it, or that eventually I’d get into a fight I couldn’t win. All I’ve ever done is fight, fuck, and drink, and try not to die. Nobody wants a Belmont around, you know? Not until there’s a monster they need me to kill, anyway. I’m good at killing things. I guess it runs in the family. But when I’m with you and Syph I think there could be something more than that, even though saying it out loud makes it seem like lightening is going to smite me for being such an idiot,” he grinned, a nervous reflex to hide how unnatural it was for him to admit his vulnerabilities.

Silence fell over them as Adrian studied the other man, trying to process everything they’d discussed while also attempting to erase the disturbing image of Trevor frozen in the snow. It was easy, at times, to forget that the he’d lived most of his life as a solitary drifter, and the dhampir knew that it didn’t come easy to share things like he just had. It was his way of trying to meet Adrian on the same level, demonstrate that he understood he was asking him to do something that forced him well outside his zone of comfort. They were all doing more of that these days, as they tried to figure out how to live together.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Adrian said quietly, pulling the hunter against his body. His fingers slid over the muscled, scarred back and he held on tightly, nose buried in the other man’s hair. Trevor smelled like sweat, metal, and river water and something vaguely sharp and spicy that he’d become very accustomed to. He squirmed, protesting that Adrian was being too sentimental, but he allowed himself to be held anyway.

Sypha’s footsteps crunching over leaves and pine needles alerted them to her approach as she returned from checking the animals.

“I’ll try what you suggested,” Adrian finally agreed, releasing Trevor from his hold and turning to catch sight of Sypha as she reached them.

The Speaker’s expression had eased, and a little smile graced her lips at the picture of the men together. Adrian was relieved that she didn’t seem to be pouting anymore and thankful for her resilience. She kicked off her boots and unwrapped her robe. Now clad only in the thin black dress she wore beneath her outer clothing, she pulled open one side of the blankets and crawled in. Adrian immediately felt her heat against his back and shifted to welcome her in with them. He laid his head back into the fur cloak they were using as a pillow, watching as Trevor leaned over him to pull Sypha into a kiss. He observed the familiar way their mouths met, lips working over one another in a well-practiced dance.

They pulled apart for a brief moment to meet each other’s eyes, then came together again, the tips of their tongues touching gently, sliding along one another until Trevor grabbed Sypha easily around the waist and hauled her over Adrian so she was between them. He then proceeded to deepen his kiss, dipping his tongue further into her and grabbing one of her breasts through her dress.

“Ow, not so hard Trev,” she complained, but Adrian could see she was arching into his touch.

In another moment Trevor released Sypha’s mouth, allowing her a chance to take in some much needed oxygen. Adrian shifted onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and sandwiching Sypha between his and the hunter’s bodies. His mind was still tangled up in what he had just agreed to. He laid a contemplative hand on Sypha’s middle, tracing the lines of her body and daring to cup a breast carefully in his palm. Trevor was frustratingly good at both distraction and negotiation, he realized, as he found himself playing with her breast through the fabric, his irritation at Sypha considerably diminished in light of his discussion with the hunter.

“Alright, now that we’re all together, let’s work this out,” Trevor said, looking confidently between his two partners. The vulnerability was completely gone, replaced by the hunter’s usual demeanor. He mirrored Adrian’s position, laying on his side and propping his head on his palm. He draped his free arm over Sypha’s belly, hand finding purchase on Adrian’s hip.

“What are we working out?” Sypha asked, large blue eyes flicking from Adrian to Trevor. She rested her hand over Adrian’s on her breast, lacing their fingers together absently. His eyes were drawn to her lip, which she worried between her teeth. The wound she’d made was still fresh; he could smell it. He licked his own lips, returning his eyes to Trevor’s face.

“Well, we talked a little while you were checking on the animals,” Trevor began, and Adrian buried his nose in Sypha’s hair as he let Trevor explain what he had difficulty putting into words.

“Adrian’s still pretty pissed about what you tried to do. He doesn’t like being manipulated, like he already told you earlier, so let’s start by reiterating that there won’t be a repeat of that anytime soon.”

Adrian could feel Sypha nodding and she squeezed his hand again. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispered, and he felt her adjusting her position so they were facing one another. He withdrew from where he was enjoying the scent of her hair, meeting her eyes. She deposited a gentle kiss on his lips. “I should have respected your wishes instead of trying to tempt you into it.”

“I forgive you,” Adrian said against her mouth. He dipped back in for a second taste of her, sucking at the tiny lip wound. His fangs ached deep into his skull and he tried not to completely shut his urges down, but also not to give in to them. He’d have to get more comfortable with this if he was going to do as he had told Trevor he would. He ran his tongue over the small cut. There was nothing to take from it, but he enjoyed the sensation and flavour regardless. The situation was very much as it had been the morning prior, when he was being intimate with his lovers. He needed to accept and acknowledge his instincts, get used to their intensity anew. He could feel Sypha smiling beneath his mouth and he stilled, catching himself before he went further, slowly putting a bit of distance between their faces.

Trevor gave Adrian’s hip a reassuring squeeze. “Now that you’ve made nice with each other, let’s move on.”

Adrian wanted to speak for himself, rather than letting Trevor do it for him. He cleared his throat to get his partners’ attention and cautiously looked from one of them to the other. “This is incredibly awkward for me,” he began, drawing a fingertip over Sypha’s lower lip and the tiny puncture made by his fang. “I spent such a long time refusing human blood. It feels as if I’m doing something wrong if I let myself give in, even after biting you once,” he confessed, cheeks warm. “But, Trevor has persuaded me that it could be… good for me.”

Sypha seemed to take a second to process that, but when she did she gave both men disbelieving looks. “Actually?”

Adrian gulped, nodding shyly. “I will… make an effort to become more comfortable with it,” he answered, suddenly feeling completely ridiculous as he reflected on the whole matter. In what universe did humans try to persuade a vampire to feed on them? It was laughable. He really didn’t need to do anything to get used to drinking blood, it was as natural as breathing. But accepting it from Sypha and perhaps eventually Trevor as well? That was hard to be okay with, even if his body was more than eager to oblige. All of this was about his state of mind, after all. It was about the way he viewed them.

Sypha pulled him from his thoughts as she cupped his cheek, tilting his face towards her. She waited for him to meet her eyes before speaking. “Sweetheart, it’s not wrong when it’s just us and we’re alright with it. Drinking my blood isn’t taboo or shameful or anything like that. It _is_ good for you. I understand why you chose to refuse it most of your life, but things are different now. It was so beautiful to see you come alive last time, to see your injuries heal properly and watch you regain your magic. I cannot believe you gave that up for so long. I really want you to keep that.”

Adrian leaned into Sypha’s touch, letting his eyes slip shut as he moved closer to her body and nuzzled her hand. A life where he could normalize his relationship with human blood and rid himself of the guilt and self-deprecating thoughts that he associated with it would certainly be easier than the one he’d been living for the last decade.

He pulled back and studied both his partners seriously. “I’m willing to very _carefully_ explore this,” he said slowly. “However, I am not going to take chances. At the slightest sign that your health is compromised in _any_ way, it ends. Yesterday you made a point of reminding me of my immortality, so now I will remind you that you do not share it and I will not hesitate to stop this experiment if there is even the slightest indication that it is harming you. Do I make myself perfectly, irrefutably clear?”

He looked sternly at Trevor, then to Sypha, wanting to make sure that he had been heard and understood.

When they both gave little nods of agreement he relaxed slightly, letting the reality of what they’d just decided roll slowly over him and settle in.

Adrian wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them tightly against his body, burying his face between them. They squirmed in their entrapment, but he held them fast, needing them close.

When he could hear both of them struggling for breath and freedom he relaxed his arms slightly. He didn’t say anything, opting instead to get as close as physically possible.

“Guys,” Sypha wheezed, and Adrian realized that he’d dragged Trevor onto her and she was likely being crushed by approximately two hundred pounds of muscled hunter. He let go, eyeing Sypha sheepishly. She returned the look with a soft smile. “Better,” she said after Trevor slid off of her so she could breathe. “One thing,” she said, raising a finger pointedly. “If I’m not allowed to tempt you into biting me, then you need to ask for blood when you’re thirsty. Alright?”

“Oh. Uhm...” he eyed the little sorceress warily, realizing how hard that would be for him to do. He swallowed, averting his eyes while he tried to make a response come out of his mouth. Finally he nodded his assent, looking at her again.

“Actually,” Sypha added, “there’s one other thing.” She turned her head, facing Trevor. “You’ve really changed your tune about this in the last couple of days. Are you okay with sharing your blood now too, Trev?”

All eyes were on the hunter, who suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words. He gulped, looking nervous as he raked his fingers back through his hair. “Well, I- uh- I hadn’t actually considered that… _specifically_ ,” he stuttered, his cheeks quickly flushing as all of the confidence and certainty he’d had through the prior discussion evaporated in the blink of an eye. He sat up, his hand going to the deep puckered scar on his shoulder where he’d been bitten before. He rubbed it absently, looking very much like a frightened child in that moment. Trevor’s enjoyment of Adrian’s claws and teeth when they were fooling around was clearly in a very different compartment in the man’s mind than being bitten for real.

He glanced at the mage, then the dhampir, and straightened, obviously trying to conceal the fact that the thought still made him want to piss himself.

When he spoke, his voice was a little too loud with false bravado. “Yeah, sure. ‘Course I’ll do it too. Only fair, right?”

Sypha and Adrian shared a mutually skeptical look.

“So,” Sypha said lightly, her voice dripping sweetness. “Then you’re fine with it? As in, he can do it right now?”

Trevor’s face tightened, managing to look even more horrified. “Now?” he croaked. “Uh, y-yeah. Yeah now is fine, perfect, actually. Just- uh- just go ahead then,” he squeezed his eyes shut and held out his forearm towards Adrian. His heart was rabbiting in his breast and he had stopped breathing entirely.

Adrian couldn’t hold back his snort of laughter, somehow more relieved by Trevor’s fear than he would have been by true acceptance because it was what he expected. The mighty Trevor Belmont, afraid of almost nothing in the world, except Sypha setting him on fire and vampire bites.

He wrapped his fingers around the tanned wrist and pulled it towards his face, watching the way the muscles in Trevor’s shoulders bunched in anticipation. He saw a tremor work its way through him, his eyes screwing even more tightly shut. He lowered his mouth over Trevor’s wrist to inhale the scent of his skin, spicy and laced with fear and adrenaline. He exhaled, allowing his breath to wash over the skin. Goosebumps ran up Trevor’s arm and all the hairs on it stood on end. Even his fingers were tense.

Adrian smiled against his pulse point kissing it harmlessly before lowering the man’s hand.

“Relax,” he said, earning a sidelong peek out of one blue eye.

Adrian didn’t want to crush the Trevor’s ego by pointing out how terrified he obviously was, so he found a suitable excuse which would spare him the humiliation. “Your nose bled substantially after the battle and you have several smaller wounds. It would be irresponsible to take anything from you right now,” he reasoned. “Maybe another time.”

“Oh thank fuck,” he muttered, broad shoulders sagging in relief.

Sypha’s fingers slid into Adrian’s hair and pulled him to meet her for a kiss. When she released him he curled into her, nose against her temple, kissing her there as he tried to draw up the courage to ask for what he wanted, even though he knew she was more than happy to oblige.

Trevor calmed himself enough to lay back down, resuming his position against Sypha with his hand reaching over to hold Adrian’s waist as he watched his partners intently.

It was hard to ask for this. If he hadn’t spent so many years denying himself human blood then he wouldn’t have such difficulty with it now, and he would be used to the dichotomy of humans being both a source of nourishment and also friends, lovers, and so forth. His rigid refusal to give in to his thirst was responsible for creating this situation. Adrian thought about how he’d felt after last time he bit Sypha, and recognized how intense his reactions were. He was becoming rather curious as to whether it would be more manageable if he fed more often. It would be incredibly inconvenient to have a repeat of the last experience each time. And the sexual response had been nearly overwhelming. He was hopelessly turned on for hours afterwards, both from the blood itself, and from thinking about it, from seeing his marks… it was too much. Such a reaction at the wrong time could be crippling. He hoped that a lot of that was due to his body returning to an ‘ideal’ state of health, that is, his magic and full strength being restored.

The only way to be certain was to do it again.

“Sypha,” he said softly against her temple, closing his eyes and allowing the sound of her heartbeat to fill his ears as he traced a finger over her throat, shivering in anticipation when he felt her steady pulse. “May I?” he said, voice wavering slightly at the awkwardness of asking. “Please,” he added quietly as an afterthought.

“Of course,” she answered with a smile in her voice, her hand joining his and gripping it reassuringly.

His mouth watered as she granted permission and he inhaled her hair once more before shifting lower so he could find a comfortable position. A thrill of eager excitement rolled through him as he explored the pale length of her neck with his nose and lips, the thump of her heart loud in his ears. He opened his reddened eyes and found Trevor looking at him.

He was watching intently, lying with his head beside Sypha’s on the white fur. Adrian had never imagined that Trevor would get to a point where he’d be so accepting, but here he was, seemingly fine with this even though he wasn’t ready to be bitten himself. It was nearly inconceivable that a Belmont would be laying down with a vampire. It was still more surprising that Trevor had come so far as to encourage him to experiment this way. Only days ago the man had been dead set against biting of any kind, but a great deal had changed since their argument in the Hold and it was clear that Trevor was trying extremely hard to understand Adrian’s physiology and psychology.

Adrian himself had never thought he’d be in a position like this. He still felt that strange separation from some of his instincts, as if his vampire side were personified, whispering to him at times to do things which humans would find perverse and frightening. He was doing what he could to accept the part of himself which he’d fought against much of his life. It certainly didn’t hurt that a man who had spent his entire life hunting and killing monsters was willing to look deeper. It made Adrian want to do something in return, so Trevor could feel as good as his acceptance made Adrian feel.

And Sypha. Adrian could not fail to acknowledge how easily and causally she offered herself. She trusted him, she was the reason that he had done any of this, in fact, because she’d confronted him in the Belmont Hold and persuaded him to break his ten year fast in the first place. Sypha had placed blind faith in him when he hadn’t even been willing to _talk_ about the subject. Yes, sometimes she did things without thinking them through, but because of her he was stronger than he had ever been. He could use his magic again – which was an incredible feeling – and her confidence in him was unwavering. It made Adrian feel whole.

The dhampir rolled slightly over Sypha so he could take the side of her neck closest to Trevor. He put his knee between her thighs, parting her legs and pushing her dress up a bit so she would not be pinned beneath the fabric. He felt the instincts of possessiveness working their way to the surface, but this time he felt it for both of his partners, rather than wanting to keep Sypha all to himself. He opened his mouth over her throat, licking along the line of her artery as he felt her body’s heat beneath him.

His fangs were tingling, itching and sensitive as he allowed their flat faces to brush over her skin. He paused, considering what they’d discussed about doing this more frequently. That meant taking only small meals – just enough to quiet his hunger and give him his energy back. He typically aimed for a killing bite if he was hunting an animal, so he knew it would take practice to perfect this new, more careful and respectful method of feeding.

He felt his way once more with lips and tongue, aiming to nick the vessel with only with one fang, while the other would meet soft tissue of skin and muscle. This would result in less overall bleeding, but perhaps more pain and bruising. He could not help looking to Trevor once more as he slid his elongated teeth in, feeling the layers of tissue yield effortlessly as he found purchase and Sypha’s blood began to fill his mouth.

The hunter watched him curiously, looking a bit queasy despite his insistence that he was alright with all of this.

“Ah- oh that _hurts_ ,” Sypha said, sucking in a breath through her teeth. Adrian felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders tensing from the pain, which he knew would make it worse. He laid more heavily over her and stroked her hair tenderly, carefully pulling his teeth free from the wounds and swallowing the first spurts of her blood that filled his mouth. He wanted to tell her to relax, but he became quickly distracted by the flavour and heat coating his tongue.

It was perfect, simply the best, headiest thing he could ever recall tasting. She was alive in his arms, wincing from the pain but slowly relaxing beneath him and he felt her thighs squeezing together after a time, and her skin began to flush as the subtle scent of arousal indicated that she was enjoying it now. He laved the wound, pulling back to look at her. He licked his lips at the picture she made beneath him with her blood welling in the hollow of her clavicle, still flowing quickly enough that he had to dip down and clean it away to keep it from spilling over onto the blankets and her dress.

He felt both satisfied and like he could never have enough, but his focus was on Sypha. He sucked gently at her throat, eyes closing in enjoyment as his hands smoothed over her lovingly. His lips were marred with red, teeth stained with it. It took only a few minutes for the flow to become slower, and he was confident that the damage was minor and that he hadn’t overindulged.

When he next made to look at her she was smiling at him. Her hands found their way around his waist and she wriggled beneath him. Her breasts were pressing against his chest and her hips rocked gently against his stomach. He could see that her nipples had hardened into stiff points beneath her dress and her cheeks were rosy and flushed. He felt Trevor’s hand over the small of his back beneath the hem of his shirt.

Adrian sighed in pleasure, heat coursing through his body, warmth spreading to all his extremities and quickly going to work on his wound. It tickled and itched and he knew the damage was disappearing as his body healed easily now that it had what it needed.

He barely stifled a yawn, still exhausted despite the meal. He was relieved that he didn’t have the same overly intense buzz of energy that he’d experienced the last time. He felt delightfully sated; not full, but no longer wanting for blood. He regarded the woman beneath him, her eyes a bit hazy, her blood still seeping from the bite on her throat. He purred languidly against her, licking the area clean again and inhaling the scent of the wound with indulgence. A relaxed, contented wave was washing over him, nullifying many of the anxious thoughts that had plagued him for the last hour.

It seemed his lovers had been right; he was simply happier this way, it _was_ good for him. It was as if all of the nervous energy had evaporated into thin air to be replaced by a lazy sort of confidence. He felt strong, and a bit foolish for worrying so much and making such a big deal out of the whole matter. He shifted, partly aroused, enjoying the sensation of Sypha’s small, curvaceous frame beneath him. He slid his palm to her breast and squeezed it gently, possessiveness flaring alongside his satisfaction.

“Thank you Sypha,” he said, laving the wound again before moving to her mouth to offer her a deep, slow kiss, which she eagerly returned, her fingers gripping his upper arms. He wanted to tell her that she tasted divine, but he didn’t quite feel brave enough to say it aloud. “Are you alright?” he asked instead.

“Mmhm,” she intoned, her hips moving again. “After the painful part, it feels really good,” she said, smiling dreamily and reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. “And you’re so hot,” she added, making Adrian blush in helpless embarrassment. Trevor snorted beside them at the way she said it and Adrian’s reaction.

Sypha glanced at the last Belmont and put her free hand around his neck, pulling him closer. “Trev, it’s really not bad,” she said quietly to him, touching her nose to his cheek. “Next time you should try.”

The hunter looked between them, eyes falling on the blood that was still staining Adrian’s mouth. “Maybe,” he said hesitantly as Adrian licked his lips, trying to clean them. Sypha had let her eyes close, fingers in Trevor’s hair and a smile still on her lips.

Adrian settled himself against Sypha’s side, yawning again. He slid his hand along her body, passing it gently over the mound between her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from there, even through her dress. He watched the way she lazily responded to his touches. He continued to stroke her over the fabric, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, arousal or no. It occurred to him that now might be a good time to try sex if he were more awake. He was hard, she was wet, Trevor wasn’t wearing a shirt – it seemed perfect. Only, before he could really think anymore about it, he was dropping off into a much needed rest.

For the first time in days on end Adrian finally found uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. He barely moved at all for the next eight hours, snuggled against Sypha and Trevor in the forest.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, the next installment. Technically I got it up it in under a month... by a few hours. I do apologize for the wait! I know it can be hard to keep up with the story when you have to go a month between updates, but that is honestly the fastest I can go right now.
> 
> I hope the chapter is okay. It was one of those parts that I added to and took away from a lot and spent far longer than I am willing to admit on editing. After awhile the whole thing looked like another language to me. Its basically all talking, so... hopefully you weren't falling asleep halfway through and wondering when the pace was going to pick up. 
> 
> *Edited out some errors I saw 9/14/20
> 
> I deeply value constructive criticism and feedback! I am very thankful for all of the support that 'A Night at the Inn' has garnered so far! It is simply incredible to know that so many people have chosen to read this work. More will be on the way soon.


	26. Part Twenty-Six

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Six**

Adrian was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world. He hadn’t slept so deeply in ages, and consciousness was slow to return to him, coming only a little at a time. The day had crawled by, and the sun was already low in the sky, barely peeking over the treeline. With its descent came the chill of night and the sounds of crickets. He had remained almost eerily still, not noticing when his partners left their warm nest to pee, and later again to make lunch. He had only stirred enough to shift onto his back and throw an arm out to the side, the cold on his bare hand inconsequential.

He was extremely, unimaginably comfortable. He never wanted to get up. He didn’t specifically register the conversation taking place beside him, although he subconsciously knew he was close to Sypha and Trevor; they were laying together, pressed to his body and wonderfully warm.

“Fuck that has to hurt, how the hell did it not go down yet?”

“I don’t know, Trev. I can’t believe he didn’t wake up. He must have been so exhausted.”

“If I didn’t know better I'd think he was dead. You weren’t quiet, Syph.”

“He’s just really deeply asleep. His breathing is very slow. You know he gets like that when he sleeps.”

“Sure, but usually he’s the first one up at the slightest little noise. How did he sleep through me fucking you like that?”

“I think he’s finally let himself relax. It’s sweet. Look how his mouth is hanging open; he’s drooling on himself, and I’ve never heard him snore before. He’s so cute, Trev.”

“ _That_ does not look very relaxed. It looks painful. And men can’t be cute!”

“Of course you can. Well, he can. You, not so much.”

“Hey! I’m… well… yeah, you’re right. I’ll settle for endearing. But forget that bullshit; he’s had a boner for half an hour. We should wake him up.”

“Remember that time you kicked him between the legs when you were fighting? He didn’t even flinch. Maybe it doesn’t hurt?”

There was a derisive snort. “Pshhh that was bullshit. He was acting tough because he was testing me. It hurt, he just didn’t want to lose the fight.”

“He was never going to lose that fight, Trevor.”

“Oh don’t start on me, woman. I had him in a draw.”

“Suuuure you did. As if he couldn’t have done that trick where he disappears and reappears nearby to get out of that. He let you _think_ it was a draw.”

“Shut up, Sypha.”

Silence settled for a moment, and the lull in talking was the thing which slowly began to pull Adrian from his slumber. He shifted slightly, immediately becoming aware of an intense ache in his testicles and the fact that he was painfully hard. His brows drew together, a grimace appearing on his face. He groaned and his hand went to his groin, wincing at the state of things there. He blinked – his eyes blurry at first – mouth dry from being open for too long. He could feel a wet patch on his shirt where he’d apparently drooled on himself. How elegant.

“I think sleeping beauty is finally going to rejoin the land of the living,” came Trevor’s gruff observation.

Adrian grunted unintelligibly. He wiped the corner of his mouth and side of his face with the back of his hand, yawning wide and finally clearing the bleariness from his eyes. He was met with the faces of both Trevor and Sypha peering at him from one side. Trevor was stretched leisurely on his back with one hand behind his head, and Sypha was draped over his chest, her head resting on one folded arm, the other trailing little patterns over the hunter’s bare pectoral. He stared back at them for a moment as his faculties returned to him. He’d really been out cold; it was already getting dark.

“Is it night?” he asked dumbly, sitting up and rubbing his face with a palm.

“Just about, you slept the whole day, sweetheart,” Sypha answered him, smiling as she leaned over to kiss his cheek and give his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. She was naked. He could smell Trevor on her, and sex.

“Have to pee,” was all he managed as a response. He got up quickly, not giving them a chance to say anything else as he disappeared from view into the trees. Finding a suitable spot, he carefully unlaced his breeches and freed himself, sighing when he felt the cool air on his sorry looking member. He poked it experimentally and winced as it sprang rigidly back into place, bobbing slightly from the movement. He leaned one hand on the rough bark and used the other to gingerly coax his unwanted erection downwards so he could relieve himself. He stood there, still half asleep, listening to the sound of urine splashing at the base of the tree’s trunk and attempting to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order.

Despite the fading drowsiness, he felt great. Very calm, exceptionally strong. And well-rested, finally. He knew that the blood was to thank for his sudden sense of ease, but it surprised him because he had not previously acknowledged how much he’d been missing out on. He had never wanted to, since he was so firmly set in his ways. Last time, the return of his magic had been monumental, and the experience of actually drinking proper blood had been such an… _event,_ that it was all he could do to hang on for the ride and he really had no sense of what parts were normal and what was simply over-stimulation.

As he carefully tucked himself back into his breeches – he was still almost painfully hard and hoped it would dissipate before too long – he contemplated the things he had talked about with Trevor and Sypha, and the arrangement they had convinced him to agree to. Even after talking it through, his ingrained habits of denial and resistance had him on the verge of guilt, but he made a point of consciously breaking his old thought patterns and trying to accept that things were different. He wasn’t going to drown himself in anxiety over the matter; he refused to do that. He would give this an honest effort and with any luck soon it would feel normal and require a lot less second-guessing.

He padded back towards the camp. There was a small fire crackling, casting a warm glow and long shadows in the deepening twilight. Adrian finger combed the tangles from his hair, smoothing down the flyaways carefully. His gaze settled on his partners as he came into the circle around the fire. He raked his eyes over them appreciatively, his vampire side purring that they were there, and his.

The ‘voice’ which he associated with that part of himself was less unnerving now, although it was certainly present, very much stimulated by the fresh blood running through his body. He knew that he couldn’t resolve everything he was struggling with at once; it would take a bit of practice to stop himself from treating his instincts as though they were a separate entity, and it remained to be seen whether their little experiment would work in the longer term. However, he didn’t feel like he needed to fight against himself so hard anymore. The acceptance he’d forcibly undertaken was doing him a world of good in that regard. It was easier to relax simply because he didn’t feel the need to resist every stray thought and urge that came about unheeded.

He picked up one of the water skins and rinsed his mouth, then gulped a long drink before setting it back down with their belongings. Trevor was studying him pointedly, the glint of his eyes bright in the light of the fire. Sypha was doing the same, albeit with more subtlety. A slow, relaxed smile came over his features when he saw the way Sypha was draped half over Trevor, her bare bum visible out of the edge of the blankets, the line of Trevor’s hip peeking from beneath her. The hunter was sliding his hand along her body, following the dip in her spine and casually palming one generous ass cheek. They both looked a little spent.

“Come back in before your spot gets cold,” Sypha beckoned, wiggling as if it would encourage him to move faster.

He hurried back to his place beside his lovers, laying back in the warm nest made from Trevor’s fur cloak and several blankets. Sypha crawled right onto him with little regard for her elbows digging into his chest – it’s not as though she was going to hurt him, no matter how pointy they were. She studied his face a moment before folding her arms and laying her chin on them so she could look up at him, one of her legs between his, the other between he and Trevor. Adrian shimmied closer to the hunter until he was sidled against him tightly and wrapped an arm around Sypha’s waist, gripping a handful of her hip possessively.

“We were considering throwing you in the cart with Daisy if you didn’t wake up soon,” Sypha teased, adjusting herself until she was comfortable straddling his thigh. “You haven’t moved since this morning.”

“Well, I didn’t sleep for four days, I was tired,” he said in explanation. “I suppose we should get up if we want to make some progress before night fully falls. Trevor, do you know how much further until we reach the village? I can smell it, but it must still be some distance away.”

Trevor turned his head to meet Adrian’s eyes and raised a skeptical brow. “You can smell it? I think we still have at least another two days riding, how the fuck can you smell a village that far away?”

“The scent of humans, smoke, and death carries whenever the wind shifts towards us. They are probably all dead; the scent is strong. I don’t imagine very much will have survived my Father if he went there himself. Without an army he would have had to obtain corpses for the necromancer we saw through the mirror. And there were quite a few beasts in the pack we fought. All of them had to come from somewhere.”

Sypha sighed, blue eyes darkened sadly at the mention of so many dead. “Maybe Hana was able to hide herself. She was far out of the main village and she seemed to be quite an accomplished witch. I hope she’s alright.”

“You shouldn’t hope for that,” Trevor said to her. “You know better, Syph.”

Sypha seemed as though she wanted to retort, but she decided not to. Instead, she contemplated Adrian’s chest.

He wished he could offer her some assurance that the woman had survived, but all of them knew that the world they lived in held no such comforts, and that pretending it did was foolish and impractical.

“We’ll cover as much ground as we can tonight,” he said instead, bringing his hand from Sypha’s waist up along her body. He smoothed it between her shoulders and up the nape of her neck, then into her hair, digging his fingers against her scalp. She closed her eyes with a little smile, letting go of the grave conversation in favour of enjoying the moment.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she said happily, shifting atop him. He felt her pubic bone pressing against his still inconveniently erect cock and he grunted at the sensation. His fingers tightened in her hair, tugging at it as he recalled exactly what they’d been doing before he’d fallen asleep. His feeding had put Sypha in a very… affectionate mood, and he had not intended to drop off as he had; he was simply too tired to stay awake any longer. By the scent clinging to both she and Trevor he gathered they had followed through without him while he was resting.

Perhaps that was why he’d woken in such a state – just being near them with strong pheromones circulating was enough to thoroughly arouse him. He inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the mix of scents that clung to the Speaker laying atop him. Her natural smell reminded him of snow, but was also edged with magic, giving her a dangerous quality which he loved. In addition to that she presently smelled of perspiration – her own and Trevor’s – sex, and fresh wounds. He could clearly smell the dried blood lingering from his mark on her throat. He gently tilted her head to the side, so he could examine it.

His bite was there, the two small punctures now surrounded by a palette of red and purple bruising that blossomed outwards and mottled the otherwise pristine flesh just above her clavicle. There were dark little scabs over the fang marks and he could see the blue lacework of her vessels, her pulse fluttering where they passed most closely beneath the skin.

Adrian forgot to breathe for a moment as he surveyed the damage.

In a seamless motion, he flipped Sypha onto her back and was leaning over her on his knees, propping himself up with one hand. He stroked her cheek with his knuckles, following the line of her jaw down to the place he’d fed from. It was mesmerizing. He stared at the wounds for a long moment, preening with satisfaction that she was so thoroughly marked by his teeth. He couldn’t help the way red seeped into his eyes at the seductive image, nor how his abdomen tightened, heat surging between his legs. He swallowed thickly, remembering her thighs clenching together when he was drinking from her. She’d enjoyed it. Simply having her and Trevor’s blessing and encouragement to sate himself at her throat was amazing, but that she’d _enjoyed_ it was sublime.

He traced his finger lightly over the injury and heard Sypha inhale sharply. She winced, her brows crinkling, breaking the spell that had fallen over him and drawing his eyes away from her neck, back to her face. “Careful, it’s still tender,” she admonished gently, but she didn’t seem upset. He blinked at her, his thoughts fragmented.

Adrian withdrew, his hand hovering uncertainly over her. He glanced aside in effort not to stare. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, and he wasn’t sure if he meant for causing her pain by touching the mark, or for being so captivated by it.

Sypha huffed with sudden exasperation, snatching his hand in hers. “Oh don’t start that. We basically had to have a formal debate with you to convince you to bite me in the first place, I am not going to entertain your guilt. Just don’t poke it too much until it heals a little more.”

She wiggled beneath him and his nostrils flared as she moved; he could smell her sex. That wasn’t all; Trevor’s scent was strong on her, especially between her legs. It was fresh. They must have been intimate not long before he’d awakened. He sat back on his heels so he could look over her body, and Trevor’s beside her. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed the obvious signs of their recent coupling. Sypha had a new hickey on the other side of her throat which he hadn’t put there. Trevor’s brow and chest were still a little damp, and he had an indolent, contented expression on his face which Adrian had seen before. He could easily smell the musk of Sypha’s most intimate places wafting from him.

He chewed his lip, the point of his fang digging into it as he felt his body responding the that scent, and the images that came with it.

He dared to look more closely, his eyes quickly drawn to the juncture of Sypha’s legs. Her entrance was sticky and wet, the reddish hair around it darkened to auburn by moisture. The pale flesh of her inner thigh was beautifully decorated by the first bite he’d left on her. The mark had a different colouration now – it was more yellowed, fading at the edges as it healed, the scabs from his fangs shrunken with the passage of time. The skin was slickened with copious wetness and glistening in the light from the fire.

He knew that his breeches were doing a poor job of concealing how obtusely erect he had become, his cheeks painted with a darkening blush. He didn’t know what he should do in the face of such blatant evidence of their activities.

“Did you- uhm- did you have sex beside me while I was asleep?” he asked them lamely, even though that much was more than obvious. He immediately wished he hadn’t said anything as he hid his crotch behind his hands, attempting to make the movement seem casual, which only made what he was doing more obvious.

Trevor’s grin was entirely shameless. “Well, after Sypha said we couldn’t toss you in the back of the cart we had to kill the time _somehow_ ,” he explained helpfully. “Syph was really turned on after you bit her. I can’t believe you just passed out and left her like that; you weren’t even drunk! So I stood in for you and fingered her ‘till she got off, then we slept for a few hours, had something to eat, slept a bit more, and before you woke up we fucked. Can you really blame us? It was boring lazing around all day while you got your beauty sleep. We weren’t that tired.”

Adrian stared at Trevor in disbelief. Had he really missed all of that? He was usually much more more aware of what was going on around him when he rested. Evidently he’d felt so secure with his lovers close by that he had let his guard down entirely. The realization unnerved him – it was dangerous to be so vulnerable – what if they’d been attacked?

Adrian was startled from his thoughts by the sensation of a hand on his thigh. His eyes flicked to Sypha’s fingers sliding over the leather of his pants. “We didn’t mean to leave you out,” she said sweetly. “But it seemed like you really needed the rest.”

“Oh come on. We don’t have to always do everything together,” Trevor interjected. “We’re not attached at the hips. There are going to be times where two of us want to fool around and the third is either asleep, busy, or not in the mood. Obviously we _can_ fuck as a threesome, but we don’t have to every time. There shouldn’t be any hurt feelings over that kind of thing.”

Adrian thought about that for a second. It wasn’t something he had even considered before, but now that Trevor mentioned it, it was perfectly reasonable. He often still felt like the extra person between the three of them, but that was due entirely to his own insecurities; they had never done anything to make him feel less included or equal. On the contrary, they’d both gone to great lengths to ensure he had what he needed to be happy. It was only because they’d been together before he had joined them that it sometimes felt to him like they were more deeply attuned to one another than to him. Or perhaps because he was dhampir – sometimes that set him apart, but they had worked at that a lot and it was not such a big issue any longer. The greatest source of his self-doubt was that he was still a virgin. He sighed internally, hating that he kept coming back to that fact. The more he let himself dwell on it the bigger it loomed over him.

“I wasn’t worried about being left out, I’m just surprised I didn’t wake up,” he explained as Sypha’s hand found his and curled around it. She pulled his hand towards the juncture of her thighs, deliberately laying his palm over the area where his teeth had punctured her skin. It was hot to the touch, and slippery, wet with her juices.

“You’re awake now,” she said, her eyes lidded and a smile on her lips. “Touch me, Adrian.”

His attention zeroed in on the place she’d put his hand. Her pulse thrummed beneath his fingertips, her scent and Trevor’s was intense, and as he leaned forward to explore her she spread her legs, offering him a full view of her sodden entrance. It didn’t matter that the sun had sunk past the treeline and left the world bathed only in twilight. He could easily see every detail of her, and he was fascinated and aroused at the scene presented to him.

Adrian dragged his fingers along the mark he’d left a few days before, feeling his already aching cock throb as his hand passed over his bite and he remembered the night he’d tasted her blood for the first time. He stroked Sypha’s thighs, his hand coming away sticky. He glanced at Trevor, realizing that it was mostly his come that was all over the pale skin. The hunter was watching him with interest, and Adrian flushed harder, finding himself extremely turned on by the knowledge that Trevor had just been here, inside Sypha, fucking her. He wished he’d been awake to see it. Last time had been very… memorable for him.

He could feel the heat radiating from the Speaker's center; her folds seemed swollen, reddened. He had put his face here before, and his hand. Last time she had been incredibly wet with arousal, but not like this. He slid his fingers along her lips curiously. She jumped at his touch and her thighs eased wider, her breath jerking haltingly as his fingers prodded her. He swallowed a groan, his dick giving an enthusiastic twitch. He could see her body tightening as his hand passed over her, her stomach clenching slightly, her hips rocking.

_God, she’s so sensitive,_ he thought, sliding his fingers between her outer folds and tracing her opening. She tipped her head back, eyes closing, her mouth slack. Adrian was transfixed by the place between her legs, and helplessly turned on seeing his bite so close to it. He tentatively slid one finger into her body, like she had guided him to do before. She felt different this time, hotter, but not as tight, and he realized that she was stretched from Trevor being inside her. His eyes widened and he withdrew his finger, studying the mixture of their fluids that coated it.

Cheeks blazing, cock leaking a stain into the front of his pants, Adrian put his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean.

He thought that he probably should have been embarrassed, or found it distasteful, but the mixture of their combined fluids was powerfully erotic; it lit up his senses like fuel poured onto a fire.Without hesitation, he lowered his face to Sypha’s core and pushed her legs wider apart so he could press his mouth into her and taste her properly. The bitter flavour of come mixed with the saltiness of her juices on his tongue was intense. He laved her thighs until they were thoroughly cleaned, then he returned to her center, breathing in the heady scent of sex that clung in her curled hair.Eagerly, he dragged his tongue from her opening upwards between her folds, over her clit. He closed his lips around it, sucking very carefully, as she was obviously already extremely sensitive and was jumping under his mouth.

“Unh, A-Adrian,” she managed, her hands settling on his head. “That feels really good.”

Encouraged, he passed over her again, his hands now gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling her body more tightly against his face. He wanted it to feel like the last time, when he had nearly suffocated beneath her. The wetness coated his cheeks, nose and chin and he purred in satisfaction, loving that sensation of having his head deep between her legs and making her squirm. He could feel some of his hair sticking to his face and her thighs.

Beside them, he was aware of Trevor watching him and he felt a large hand settle on his rear, stroking his leather-wrapped cheeks and squeezing indulgently. The hand slid between his legs and began to stroke him from behind, reaching to palm at the engorged flesh which was making the laces of his fly strain to their limit.

It was hard to concentrate on both things at once and Adrian’s mouth faltered, his hands tight on Sypha’s thighs as he sought leverage, rubbing himself against Trevor’s hand.

“Do you like how she tastes right now?” Trevor’s spoke from close to where his head was buried, but his voice was muffled by Sypha’s body and the din of Adrian’s own heart in his ears. He nodded into her and felt Trevor slowly pull his fly-strings open. The tight pressure of his clothing loosened a bit, giving his engorged prick a little extra space. Trevor’s hand closed over him, providing delicious friction as he thrust himself wantonly into it through his clothes.

“Tell me what she tastes like,” the last Belmont said, his voice low and confident, _that_ tone sending a shiver along the dhampir’s spine which encouraged him to renew his efforts at pleasuring Sypha with his face. He slid his tongue inside her, cleaning away Trevor’s spend greedily before he withdrew so he could speak, the air suddenly feeling cold on his dampened cheeks. He was breathing hard and methodically grinding into Trevor’s hand. He looked at the picture Sypha made spread beneath him, seeing the way her entrance was stretched from the other man being inside her before, and he struggled to find his voice through the coursing of his own arousal.

“S-she tastes like you,” he answered finally, his voice strained, though his embarrassment was only working to fuel the ardent waves of desire which had swept him up and were carrying him forward, making him want to dive right back into her. Trevor’s hand abandoned his crotch and came to rest on his shoulder. Adrian sat back on his heels and looked at the hunter, well aware of his debauched state, his cheeks on fire. He thought back to their previous intimate encounter, when Trevor had pointed out that he ‘ _loved worshiping cock and pussy,’_ and he wondered if it was possible to get any redder than he already was, wishing he could hide his face but loving how he felt when Trevor saw him this way. He would never let anyone but his two lovers know how deeply aroused he was by the hint of humiliation that laced situations such as this one.

The blue-eyed Belmont was kneeling beside him. As Adrian panted and was about to dip back between Sypha’s legs Trevor seized him by the back of the head and pulled him into a fierce kiss, his tongue pushing insistently between Adrian’s lips and twisting against his own. There was no question who was delivering this kiss and who was receiving it, and Adrian submitted to his mouth being plundered, his hands coming to rest against Trevor’s chest, his claws extending slightly as he felt like he was unraveling with so many sensations, tastes and feelings coming one after the other.

Sypha sat up on her knees and Adrian felt her body against his, her breasts soft and warm through his shirt. She kissed the tendon in his neck that stood out from the way his head was turned towards Trevor, and Adrian felt her stroking his hair. It was so much at once, they were both so close around him and all he could do was let them carry him along as his mind clouded with desire.

Sypha began to work Adrian’s pants down from his hips, her hand slipping into them and helping his swollen organ free. He was as hard as a post, already well-slicked with his own clear moisture. He shuddered and tried to slide himself against her palm with a moan that was eaten up by the man kissing him. She gripped his taxed flesh and slid her hand along the rigid length, making Adrian’s hips jerk when her thumb passed over his exposed head. Her hand was deliciously hot around him.

His mouth was released and Adrian had to take a moment to try and regain his breath and his faculties. He looked between his partners, and saw them both fixed on him, Sypha wearing a flushed, inviting expression, Trevor’s more intense and sharp, but no less attentive to Adrian’s state. When their eyes met, the hunter seamlessly transitioned from his stern, authoritative countenance to a sweeter one, his lips forming a handsome smile. Trevor closed the distance between them again and his next kiss was gentle, though he still punctuated it by biting Adrian’s lip at the end.

“You’re both so fucking hot, I want to watch you make love to each other,” he said as they pulled a few inches apart. He dipped to Sypha and delivered a thorough kiss to her as well, his hand on her breast squeezing just hard enough to make her jerk against him. He let go before she had a chance to protest, and, as if in apology, stroked her hair softly. Her fingers on Adrian’s flesh stilled as her attention was pulled away by Trevor, who deepened the kiss and curled his arm around her waist, crushing her body tightly against his own.

Watching them, and the familiarity with which they touched each other, Adrian’s heart suddenly stepped into overdrive because he knew what was going to happen. He had never imagined it would be like this. He didn’t know exactly what he had expected or wanted, but he never could have guessed that something dissolute could also be genuine and safe.He felt only love and acceptance here. There was nearly tangible sweetness blended into the other elements. They all fit together perfectly, and he absolutely wanted to be part of something as beautiful as what he saw transpiring between Trevor and Sypha as they kissed and touched each other. It felt good and right with them.

He was nervous, but he wasn’t scared, and he was ready.

While Sypha was distracted by Trevor’s mouth he removed his pants in record time and stripped off his shirt off as well, returning to his position resting on his heels before they even noticed he’d moved. As Trevor withdrew his mouth from Sypha’s, Adrian couldn’t keep the wide smile from his face. He glanced at the hunter, who moved back a bit to give them space to enjoy one another, then met Sypha’s eyes, his own soft gold laced through with red. She smiled back at him and let him take her into his arms.

“Are you ready Adrian?” she said as they came together, and he nodded, not sure his voice would obey him if he tried to speak.

He pulled Sypha against his body and kissed her throat, over the place he’d bitten her that morning. He shivered, smelling her there and feeling the texture of the wound with his lips. What Trevor and Sypha had done in giving him a chance to get used to blood made everything more complete. It helped him to feel like they understood him, and it assured him that he was accepted completely, both his human and his vampire aspects. He wished he could explain that in so many words, but he thought they already knew, and they had confirmed it with every step taken to reach this point.

He laid her tenderly among the blankets, ensuring her head rested comfortably on the fur cloak, then he ran his hands carefully along her body, lightly tracing the outline of her frame with his claws, the pinched cinch of her waist, the curve of her stomach. He opened his palm over her thighs and his other bite, his prick leaking trails of moisture from his excitement.

He carefully parted her legs with trembling hands, crawling between them and leaning over her. Her opening was freshly slicked with her wetness, but he wanted to make sure she was ready. He wondered if he should put his mouth on her again, or use his fingers, but she removed the need for such actions when she wrapped her legs around his hips and tugged him down onto her with her heels. He braced himself with his hands on either side of her head so he wouldn’t crush her, and felt the length of his cock slide against her sopping opening, slipping along her skin easily because everything was coated in moisture.

He knew he could come just from this, and struggled to imagine what it would feel like to be inside her.Would he be able to last long enough to make her feel good? He was so horny, he didn’t know if he could hold off for very long.

He closed his eyes in pleasure, dropping more heavily onto her. He found himself nose to nose with her. He nuzzled against her and kissed along her cheek and jaw. When his eyes opened he studied her through the haze of his desire.

“You’re so beautiful Sypha,” he said to her, feeling his stomach twisting with anticipation, but waiting for confirmation that she was ready before he moved further.

“So are you,” she said, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Then she reached between them and grasped his organ, and guided him into the right position to enter her.

Adrian felt the heat first, then the impossible tightness of her core wrapped around his cock. He thought it was overwhelming when he was simply sliding himself against her sex, but as he pushed inside her body he felt himself swallowed up by her fire an inch at a time. He wanted to go as deep as he could and never leave. As he stretched her opening and slid in further he heard her moan, and it went straight to his groin, his dick pulsing and his hips suddenly jerking forward.

He was nearly buried to his hilt and he heard grunts of pleasure, barely realizing that they were coming from him.His face was hidden in the crook of her neck, his mouth open, panting, and his hands gripped her shoulders in a vain effort to bring her even closer to him than she already was. He kept thinking he would run out of place to seat himself, but as he sank deeper and deeper into her he realized that there was room for all of him within her body.

“Oh… my God,” he breathed into her hair, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He was all the way inside of her and it felt like he might come if he so much as moved an inch. Every muscle was strained, taut. He was struggling not to lose himself in the impossible tightness and heat that enveloped his prick more perfectly that he’d imagined was possible. He settled onto his elbows, his hands clutching Sypha’s upper arms, hanging onto her as if she would keep him from dissolving into liquid pleasure. When he was past the point where he thought he would explode at the slightest friction he shifted within her, getting more accustomed to the sensation.

Tentatively at first, he withdrew a few inches – earning him an “ _mmmmm”_ of encouragement – then he carefully sank back home. He tried not to bruise her or scratch her, but the points of his claws were digging into the white skin of her arms and it was all he could do not to break her in his grasp as his body trembled against her. She was so small and delicate, but he felt as though she was the one holding him together, her velvet passage squeezing around his cock when he moved.

“So- so t-tight,” he stuttered, wanting to try and communicate with her, but hardly able to formulate words. His next attempt at speech just came out somewhere between a growl and a purr, and he snapped his mouth shut, deciding it might be better not to say anything else for now.

His bravery grew as the seconds passed until Adrian was pulling himself out of her and thrusting deeply back inside, immediately finding himself addicted to the sensation of sinking completely home. While Sypha did appear to be enjoying it, he was rapidly approaching completion and she did not seem to be joining him. He wanted to make her feel as good as he did. He slowed his movements and slid out partway, grasping the base of his cock and squeezing himself hard, even digging his sharp nails in slightly as he fought to stop himself from tumbling over the edge before they were both ready. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought this might have been easier if he hadn’t been tortuously aroused since he’d woken.

Sucking a breath in through his clenched teeth Adrian looked down at their joined bodies and felt precome leaking from his tip, his testicles tight and clinging close to him. The visible portion of his cock was darkened, the veins along the shaft full and raised, especially pronounced by the way he was gripping himself in effort to prolong the inevitable. His blonde curls and the skin between his thighs were all slick and wet from the mess between their bodies. He eyed the way his length disappeared into the sopping folds of his lover’s core and a growl sounded low in his chest, his control slipping away at the lewdness of the image. He had never seen anything so erotic in his life. He slid himself a little deeper and withdrew again, the different angle changing how she felt around him, and earning him a pleasured groan when he moved.

His attention was pulled from their joining up along the lines of her figure as he repeated the movement again and saw Sypha’s back arch, and felt her hips tilting to meet him. Her legs dropped wide to either side, allowing him deeper movement. Her nipples were hard, darkened points and her pulse raced, the beat faltering each time he pumped into her and withdrew again. He wanted to sink in all the way like he had before, but she was giving him every indication that she preferred this more shallow penetration. He could actually feel her getting wetter around him, and the change in angle made the slightly ridged texture of her passage stand out when he moved.

He glanced away for a fraction of a second to see Trevor watching them, slowly stroking his own length as he enjoyed their coupling vicariously. Adrian felt himself heat up at being watched, but he couldn’t spare much attention to anything but the woman who’s body was wrapped hotly around his cock and making encouraging noises of enjoyment as he fucked into her.

She opened her eyes and the brilliant blue was clouded with pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed, the fine hairs at her temples damp and curling against her face. There was moisture on her lips, and his eyes were helplessly pinned to her face as it contorted in euphoric bliss. Adrian was seized by that look, and found his final vestiges of rational thought whittled to nothing. He gripped her legs and began to move faster, slamming into her again and again until she was keening and whining and her body was clenching around his cock.

“Like that- unh- mmmm Adrian, d-don’t stop,” she managed between the other noises, and Adrian felt like his cock was dipping repeatedly into pure, fire. She took his hands and guided them to her breasts, her fingers pressing his harshly around each of them, communicating that she wanted him to squeeze. He did, gripping her breasts tightly in his hands, his long fingers and sharp claws closing around them until he could feel her pounding heart through his fingertips. Sypha was a live wire under him, jerking and bucking to meet every movement of his hips, growing more frenetic each time he thrust forward.

“Yessss- hah- faster,” she groaned, and he eagerly complied, pumping into her quickly, his thrusts becoming more intense as he lost track of exactly where he was aiming and simply buried himself in her heat over and over until he could register nothing more than pleasure.

“S-Syph, I’m-” he managed, his body shuddering as his testicles seemed to tingle and tighten, the sensations spreading along his cock and all the way up his spine.

He felt Sypha suddenly grow rigid around him and she threw her head back, arching, her arms tangling over her head as she spasmed around him her body growing impossibly hot around him. She made a singular noise of ecstasy and then she relaxed, deftly slipping herself off of him at the exact moment that he exploded, surprised by the sudden open air on his prick and the absence of her tightness and heat.

He was already well past the point of stopping what had been set in motion. He fell forward onto her and his body tightened like a bowstring about to snap, his stomach muscles bunching as his hips and rear clenched powerfully, his claws digging savagely into the earth beside hear head. He snarled and his jaw clamped down automatically, teeth coming together with an audible _click_. He narrowly managed to stop himself from ripping into her throat as molten heat spurted from his cockhead and painted her entrance and stomach in a sticky, white mess.

He held the position for several stretched out moments, his claws fully extended as more come shot from his prick and his hips jerked a staccato rhythm as his pleasure was wrung free.

As quickly as the intense and powerful orgasm gripped him it faded, leaving him rubbery and loose atop his still panting partner. His jaw slackened. His fingers relaxed, his claws easing out of the dirt. He sank onto her, his cock sliding through the mess of her folds, giving a last twitch at the feeling of her heat and the considerable volume of ejaculate that now covered the space between them. He found himself limp and heavy, his body buzzing in the afterglow of the most intense orgasm of his life.

“You're perfect,” he mumbled, and let his eyes close for a moment, feeling hazy and deliciously spent. His muscles all seemed useless now, and he vaguely recognized that he was probably crushing her, but she allowed him a few moments repose, her hands stroking his perspiration-damp back and clutching his ass.

He was dimly aware of Trevor furiously jerking himself off beside them but he couldn’t manage to do more that press a kiss to Sypha’s hair. He felt like he could fall asleep, only she began to protest his weight on her and he summoned the strength to get to his elbows and look at her, his face still the picture of languor.

She appeared as satisfied as he was, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. She leaned up and kissed him on the mouth, their lips cool since all their blood was focused lower down on their bodies. He wasn’t ready to move yet. His arms wrapped around her small frame and he pulled her onto him, rolling on his back so he wouldn’t crush her, but could still hold her. He settled his head against the fur of Trevor’s cloak and closed his eyes again, memorizing the sensation of her heart beating over his chest and the scent of her skin slicked in both their sweat.

The minutes passed. It had grown entirely dark, and it was quickly becoming very cold. The sky was laden with dark clouds, the air heavy with the promise of rain, or even snow if it became much colder.

Trevor had finished himself and wiped his hand clean, then risen to get some fresh water for their canteens. Adrian knew they needed to clean up and be on their way, but he was hard pressed to tear himself from the lovely bubble of heat and scent that they were in. Sypha began to wriggle atop him and eventually he was persuaded to release her.

She sat up, straddling him, her lower parts strongly smelling of his spend and her moisture, her breath visible when she exhaled and her skin prickling with gooseflesh from the increasing cold. He smiled at her atop him, his cock twitching halfheartedly with renewed interest. “That was…”

She nodded her agreement. “It was. It felt really good. We should clean up.”

Loath to comply, but knowing they could not stay here all night, Adrian resigned himself to getting ready to go. He sat up with Sypha still in his lap and picked her up in his arms, easily rising to his feet and carrying her to the edge of the water. She eyed the black, freezing river warily.

“You aren’t seriously-”

Adrian stepped quickly into the water and took her with him, plunging her in up to her neck. He didn’t want her hair to get wet lest she catch cold, but she reeked of both he and Trevor and her body was veritably painted in ejaculate. There was no other way.

“Fuck! Adrian, let me go!” she yelped angrily, twisting in his arms, but he held her fast. He rarely heard her swear. It was cute. He didn’t want her to get swept away in the dark water and drown, even though the current wasn’t all that strong. She sputtered indignantly and he heard Trevor laughing from the shore. He grinned in the dark, flashing white teeth as he ran his hands over her skin to help wash away all the mess.

“Sorry Sypha, I know it’s cold,” he said in apology, quickly carrying her back out and setting her on the shore. He ducked as a shard of ice came sailing at his head and hightailed it back into the water. He disappeared beneath the surface to hopefully buy himself enough time for her to forget about her ire in favour of drying off. When he resurfaced, Trevor was holding out dry robes for her, and his thick fur cloak. Her teeth were chattering violently as she snatched her clothing and pulled it on. Trevor rubbed her arms, using the friction to help warm her up, then he draped his cloak over her shoulders. She glared daggers at both of them but accepted the fur, pulling it tightly around her frame.

Trevor and Adrian shared a conspiratorial look before Adrian ducked below the surface again to hurriedly clean himself. He emerged from the freezing water, drying himself in moments by calling his magic from within, the heat of the flames evaporating the water on his skin and in his hair. He sought out his clothing and dressed in seconds.Raking deft fingers carefully through his locks until they were smooth, he pulled his gloves on and fastened his weapon at his hip.

They packed up the camp, readied the horses, bundled a mildly protestant Daisy into the cart and set off. Sypha opted to drive, sitting atop the box and holding the reins. Trevor and Adrian went before it, helping to lead the animals carefully through the darkened trees until they emerged onto the main path. Sypha cast fire to offer extra light so they could avoid being struck by any low-hanging branches.

Adrian found himself looking over to her, gold eyes finding hers, shooting her a questioning glance. He hopped easily into the cart and sat on the box beside her once they were well on their way. Trevor climbed up and sat on on her other side. The seat was a little narrow for three, but after a moment Trevor pulled Sypha onto his lap, giving them plenty of space to share.

The dhampir let his eyes crawl over them both, studying their faces appreciatively. Sypha seemed like she was still a little irritated at being dropped into the cold water, but evidently she had forgiven him, since she leaned into him, resting her head against his. There was a little smile on her lips. Trevor put his arm around Adrian’s shoulders, pulling him close. Adrian sighed, letting himself be held and listening to their breathing and the steady sound of the horse’s hooves on the path.

If he thought he was relaxed earlier, now he was well beyond it into luxuriant territory. A deep, unshakable calm welled in his middle. His magic had come with barely a thought, as natural as breathing because he was so at ease and sated. He was strong, his senses sharp, and he knew that any enemy they faced this night would be razed to nothing almost effortlessly.

He let Trevor stroke his hair as the cart bumped along, and he gathered Sypha’s hands in his, squeezing them affectionately. Whatever horrors they would meet in the coming days, they would face them together.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking FINALLY after 26 chapters they have actual sex.
> 
> Part of me wanted to make Adrian's first penetrative sexual experience a lot more 'special' in terms of location, lead-up, etc, but life is not like that, and it's not as if they can check into a sweet hotel for a night in the Jacuzzi or anything. I looked, all the AirBNB's between here and the castle are booked up.  
> Also, in a three-way relationship it's great to try and involve all three characters in every intimate scene, but that isn't very realistic either, so Trevor didn't get as much of a role as Adrian and Sypha did here. He is fine with that, like he mentioned in the chapter. The boys will get their chance too, don't worry! Things are coming together, albeit slowly.
> 
> I am extremely thankful for reader comments. I would love to hear what you thought of this. Thank you for reading!


	27. Part Twenty-Seven

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Seven**

As the hours passed in companionable silence, a light but frigid rain began to fall, turning the path muddy and slowing their progress considerably. Adrian untangled himself from his partners to walk astride the cart and take a bit of the burden off of the animals. They were moving steadily uphill, and he saw how the horse’s hooves began to slip in the slick mud, making the going even more of a challenge. He had to help push the cart a few times, as the inexorable upward climb taxed them considerably. It was dark, and freezing, and he worried that if the rain turned to snow they might not be able to continue. The remainder of their journey would take them into the foothills of the mountains, and it was only going to get colder. They would do well to make haste, and cover as much ground as possible before the road became impassable.

The rain eventually soaked them through, and Trevor had to take back his cloak to keep from freezing, while Sypha’s wool robes were well-suited to keeping away the chill on their own. She still opted to wind an extra blanket over her shoulders in effort to stay dry as the relentless drizzle continued. Eventually, Adrian could see that Sypha was slouching and her eyes drooped, and he suggested that she move into the back of the cart to lay close to Daisy. He felt very protective of her at present and couldn’t help fawning over her a little, checking that she was comfortable and kissing her cheek, soft gold eyes playing over her face in adoration.

His heart was light and giddy despite the dismal road and poor prospects for this leg of their journey. He barely noticed the increasingly gelid and forceful rain, even when his hair was plastered to his skull and his boots were sodden. It was only when he saw how tired and uncomfortable his companions looked that he began to realize that the cold was bone-deep and the constant rain was wearing on them.

They were all used to traveling by now, but had yet to pass through such elevated territory while also contending with the disconsolate weather. In the past, they’d had the shelter of their covered wagon to protect them from the elements. Adrian began to worry that Trevor and Sypha could get sick if they weren’t able to stay dry and he wished fervently that the events in the Hold had not cost them the wagon. He watched the horses struggle to pull the narrow wheels free of yet another pothole in the mud, and started to think of what he would do in the eventuality of a catastrophic failure, such as one of them breaking a leg, or a damaged axle.

The weather wasn’t the only element working against them. The scent of death continued to grow in intensity, and they began to pass mutilated, half-eaten corpses along the roadside now and again, and were set upon more than once by small, unorganized groups of roving monsters. Adrian was on high alert and did not allow any of them the opportunity to frighten the horses. He took no chances, and found a smug sort of satisfaction in obliterating anything that came within fifty feet of them with various combinations of sword, fire, and claws. The need to keep Sypha and Trevor safe from harm was stronger than it had ever been before. They were far from helpless, but he didn’t care. They were _his_ , and nothing was going to lay a finger on them while he drew breath. He knew the feeling was largely an instinct, but it made perfect sense to him and he saw no reason to deny himself the pleasure of chopping the head off of the latest beast to try its luck at turning their party into dinner. He wiped his sword clean on the corpse and regarded it dispassionately before twirling on his heel and rejoining his companions.

He couldn’t believe how invincible he felt. He had certainly never been weak, but something inside him had clicked into place and suddenly it was effortless to dispatch the snarling demons who approached them, especially with magic. He had only to think of calling the flames and they were there, plentiful and hot, making steam rise from the soaked earth at his feet. Trevor watched with sharp eyes as he gracefully and expediently took on the latest night creatures, burning them until the heat warped the air around them and their bodies crumbled to ashes. When he released the flames, Adrian felt his hair swaying in the air displaced by his power.

They were once more alone in the darkened forest. He returned to the box seat to sidle up to Trevor and hopefully impart some of the lingering heat on his skin to the man, who was shivering beneath his fur cloak. Sypha had fallen asleep snuggled against Daisy, and she seemed to be alright for the time being.Neither of the men said anything about the way the goat was casually chewing on the corner of her robe, but they shared a smile, glad that the Speaker was as comfortable as could be expected for the time being.

Trevor turned away from Sypha, looking back to the blonde. “You uh- you really fucked those guys up,” he said, pointing to the little blackened heaps that no longer even vaguely resembled their original forms.

Adrian shrugged. “They attacked us.”

“Usually we fight together,” the hunter pointed out. “But you got them before I had a chance to jump in. You’re stronger than before. Faster.”

Adrian met Trevor’s gaze. “I know,” he said, gold eyes simmering. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Well it’s definitely better than before,” Trevor noted, wrapping an arm around his waist. Adrian leaned into him, but shortly frowned when he felt the way the hunter’s body trembled every few seconds from the chill.

It was still a few hours until dawn, and the rain picked up and mixed with small ice pellets, the sound of them plinking off the cart ominous to his ears. Adrian was much better equipped to tolerate these conditions than humans. He was unharmed by the wet or the cold, could hover easily over the muddy ground, and could dry himself off with the slightest effort by summoning his fire. By contrast, Sypha and Trevor both looked worse for wear, especially Trevor, who had been without his protective fur cloak until after he’d already gotten wet. He was beginning to resemble a waterlogged cat more than a man.

“Maybe we should find a place to stop,” Adrian suggested, watching rivulets of water wash down the steep, winding path ahead. They hadn’t made nearly as much ground as he had anticipated and the trail was only becoming more difficult to traverse.

Trevor shook his head, teeth grit to stop them chattering together. “No. If we stop, the weather will worsen and we will still be just as fucked. We have to keep moving while we can.”

Adrian studied the other man, eyes roving over his wet hair and the hunch of his shoulders beneath the cloak. “You’re freezing,” he pointed out the obvious, then fingered the edge of Trevor’s tunic. “And wet through your clothes. We have no shelter and you don’t have anything dry to change into. We could at least do the spell to dry your clothes. It’s foolish to continue like this.”

Trevor swatted his hand away, thinking on the dhampir’s words. He was a deeply pragmatic person, and Adrian knew he could appeal to his logical sensibilities if he was persistent enough. If Trevor was weakened, then all of them were more vulnerable, and he knew that. He would see reason.

The hunter growled. “Fine. But we can’t stay out in this. We need to find somewhere dry. Go look. I really don’t know where we are anymore, it’s impossible to tell how far we made it in this shitty weather and it’s too fucking dark out here to see more than two feet in front of my face. I’m pretty sure there are caves in the area and I know there used to be a couple homesteads, but I couldn’t say if we are near any of them. The horses won’t be able to continue much longer like this anyway.”

Satisfied by that, Adrian was about to jump off the wagon, but Trevor caught him by the elbow before he could go.

“Adrian,” he said, the pinging of ice nearly swallowing his voice up. His eyes looked bright and hard against the bruises beneath them, still dark from his broken nose. His hair was stuck to the side of his face with rain water. “Try to hurry. I can’t feel my fingers,” he admitted, face flashing with frustration at being forced to say it aloud.

The blonde pulled off his gloves, which were dry, and handed them to the hunter. Trevor’s hands were thicker than his own, but in terms of structure, they were close to the same size. It would be better than nothing, even though his gloves were only buckskin and wouldn’t provide much in the way of insulation.

He didn’t wait to watch the hunter pull them on, rather he jumped off of the cart and took his wolf shape before he hit the ground. He disappeared silently into the driving sleet.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian made expedient work of searching the area for anything that could pass as shelter. He streaked between the trees, covering a great deal of ground and killing any monsters that got in his way as he went. He didn’t want to stray too far from the cart lest whatever he found be inaccessible, but pickings were slim and it took him awhile to seek out anything that would serve.

Eventually he came on an old barn that was still mostly standing and had a somewhat usable path leading up to it. The wind blew through the cracks in the boards, but the roof was nearly intact and it would keep the rain off. He circled it twice, checking for anything dangerous or useful, deemed it far preferable to more time outside, and flew on deft paws back to Trevor and Sypha’s sides at top speed.

He nearly froze in his tracks as he drew nearer to the cart, which had made very little progress in the time it had taken him to find shelter and return. He smelled blood, beasts and burnt flesh, and could hear Sypha’s voice.

He broke onto the path all teeth and claws with his sword hovering over his right shoulder, the picture of ferocity and ready to rend whatever threat he found. Instead, he was greeted with the image of Trevor slumped beside the cart in a puddle and Sypha struggling to move him, attempting to drag his apparently unconscious form out of the mud and back into the wagon by one limp arm. She was cursing and insulting him and it was obvious that she was shaken.

Adrian drew up beside her and she whirled on him, sending several deadly spears of ice at him before she realized he was not another enemy. He blocked the attack with his sword, smashing the ice harmlessly to the side as he met wide blue eyes that filled with uncharacteristic anger as soon as she recognized him. Adrian stilled, his large paws sinking into the cold mud as he surveyed the scene.

He had never seen Sypha panic before, but now she looked on the verge of it. She stood, rounding on Adrian with her finger pointing accusingly in his face.

“Where were you!?” she exclaimed, and he quickly realized his error.

He’d left Trevor chilled and soaked to drive the cart through the pitch dark freezing rain. While the man was uncannily astute at sensing danger, it was all too possible that he could have been taken unawares in those conditions, and he may not have been able to react very quickly with frozen fingers. Sypha was asleep in the back of the cart, so she would have been no help until after they were already under attack.

Glancing around her side, he saw that half of Trevor’s face was slicked in blood, but he couldn’t tell what or where the wound was. He looked guiltily back to the Speaker, lowering his head and ears apologetically, tail tucking between his legs.

They’d been ambushed, if the smoking pile of night creature corpses on either side of the wagon were any indication. There were two or three of what had once been spike-tailed dog-beasts, and a couple other, less recognizable forms now twisted into a singed mess by Sypha’s flames. They were still steaming, the smell of their burnt hair and flesh overpowering.

The horses were nervously stamping their hooves, and Adrian tried not to frighten them further. A giant wolf was probably not a welcome sight to the beasts of burden, even though they were familiar with his presence and scent. He shifted back to his human shape, sheathing his sword with a flick of his wrist.

“I went to find shelter. I’m sorry Sypha, we should have woken you. How badly is he hurt?” Adrian moved to crouch beside Sypha and the hunter, who’s large figure was sagged against the side of the wagon’s wheel. His sword lay in the mud several feet away and the Morning Star was beside it.

“By the time I could react he’d been knocked off the wagon. One of those monsters with the spiked tails struck him in the side of the head. He dropped like a stone,” she said gravely, her hands clenched into small fists.

Adrian felt guilt wrenching his guts, twisting like a knife. He’d been fending off attacks the entire night; of course they would meet more monsters in the time he had been gone to look for shelter. Stupid. His chest flared with anger and protectiveness, hating that he hadn’t been here to prevent this. He was also surprised that Trevor had succumbed to the attacks at all – he had never known the man to lose a fight, much less fail to identify danger approaching. It wasn’t like him. Even dead drunk he had an exceptional sense for such things. Adrian had never seen him let down his guard.

“Unnhhhh, f-fuck...” came the gruff voice, and Trevor stirred, groaning and putting his hand to his head. It was now clear that the bleeding was coming from a gash on his temple. It took a moment before he came to, grunting and spitting a mouthful of blood into the mud. “Christ, I’m losin’ m’edge,” he slurred thickly, blinking several times but not really looking at anything specific. His teeth were chattering violently.

“Trev, you hit your head pretty hard, can you tell how many fingers I’m holding up?” Sypha said, holding her hand in front of his face with two fingers extended.

“Not now Syph,” he said angrily, trying to swat her hand away and missing it entirely. He made to get up, and Adrian quickly decided this wasn’t the time or place to let him prove how tough he was by doing it alone. He easily scooped Trevor off of the wet ground and jumped into the wagon with him, laying him down between their supplies.

“Hey! I said ‘m fine, lemme drive.”

Adrian worried his lip, studying the injured, shivering man with concern. He eyed the obvious wound over his left temple, and was alarmed to see blood coming from Trevor’s ear and nose. When he looked into the hunter’s eyes he saw them mismatched, one dilated more than the other. Before this latest incident he had already been cold and wet, but now he also appeared to have a head injury. This was not good. Adrian shook his head. “Sypha’s going to drive. She slept for a few hours, so now it’s her turn and you’re going to rest.”

“Yer not th’ rules of me you fancy asshole! Urgh-” Trevor’s next words were cut short as he suddenly gagged and began to vomit. Adrian quickly sat him up, thankfully soon enough that he was able to puke mostly over the side of the wagon, rather than on himself. When he was finished, the dhampir offered him one of the water skins, which he accepted, swishing water around his mouth before he spit it out and then drank a few swallows down. When he was done he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and slumped back against their packs.

“F-fine, she can drive,” he said begrudgingly, still looking green around the gills and wracked by shivers. He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his head gingerly. When he next opened his eyes he glowered listlessly at his feet. He wasn’t focusing very well and he seemed really cold. His skin was icy to the touch. They needed to get somewhere dry, and fast.

They collected Trevor’s weapons and Adrian spent a minute stroking and talking to the horses to calm them, and then they set off towards the barn he had found.

Sypha took over the driving and Adrian explained where the barn was located.After awhile Trevor ceased his violent shivering and began to look listless and detached, nearly falling sideways a couple of times, his fingers too clumsy to grasp the water skin they kept offering him.His responses became slow or absent entirely. Adrian knew he was not doing well, but there wasn’t much that could be done to help him until they got out of the weather. They had wrapped him in two wool blankets, draping them over his head like a hood to try and keep the rain off of him. He protested the fawning and prodding, muttering something about being sober and telling Adrian to go fuck himself in an uncalled for ill temper.

The dhampir felt completely, infuriatingly useless, unable to do anything to help besidestry to keep Trevor talking. He had seen this man battle impressive monsters, use virtually anything at his disposal as a weapon, and even fight when he was so drunk he could hardly walk. It was shocking to witness him helpless and fading.

Sypha used her magic to heat some water and they made him drink it. It seemed to have a marginal benefit, but it wasn’t enough. Eventually they shifted Daisy beside him for warmth, and Adrian went in front to lead and keep his eyes out for danger. He was nearly dragging the horses forward, urging them to go as fast as they were able, but they were only animals and had limits. He found himself constantly having to circle back because nobody could move as fast as he could. He had never found Trevor and Sypha’s humanity to be a hindrance before, but presently it was maddening to have to wait for their meager progress when he could have gained the shelter of the barn in minutes traveling on his own, negating the need for horses entirely.

“Adrian,” Sypha said, and he came quickly to her side, his lips pressed into a thin, humorless line. She looked windswept, her cheeks red and her figure hunched against the pelting bits of ice that stung wherever they struck bare flesh. “How much further?”

“Not long if we can keep up the pace. We will need to make a fire and get him out of the wet clothes as soon as possible. I think he is developing hypothermia,” Adrian admitted, catching her eyes and letting her see how scared he was. No amount of strength or speed could help right now. It looked as though the cold was becoming a more serious matter than his injured head. The fact that he wasn’t shivering, and was barely responding to them anymore was deeply concerning. Adrian had even considered trying to envelope Trevor in his magic, but he had never experimented with that. When he called it up the ground at his feet always singed, even though his clothing was unharmed. He had no idea whether he could have another person close to him when he was wreathed in flames or if they would be burned. This was not the time to test that; if he were burned, Trevor would be even worse off than he already was.

Sypha wasn’t easily frightened, but Adrian could see that she was worried. She squeezed his hand. “We just have to keep going. At least he has Daisy to keep him warm for now, and we will have warm milk from her when we stop. And we have a place to stop, so that’s better than staying out here. It could be worse.”

Adrian stopped himself from snapping childishly at her optimism; that wouldn’t help things. He knew she was also cold, but she looked like she was still managing alright.

The path to their destination was not especially difficult, but it ultimately took another forty minutes for the horses to drag the wagon there, and by the time the shape of the ramshackle barn appeared the ice rain was coming in droves and had begun to form a slippery crust on the ground. It clung to tree branches and even the tips of the horse’s tails and manes were iced over. It was fortunate that they would be able to stand out of the wet and cold for awhile. They were good horses and had rough, thick coats, well-suited to the climate, but they were obviously tired and needed reprieve from the elements.

As soon as they got within view of the barn Adrian disappeared and set to collecting dead wood from nearby, dragging it inside. He moved as fast as he was able to, appearing as little more than a black and gold blur as he flew to and from the structure, dragging anything he could find that was dry. He made short work of snapping the trunks of the small trees into usable pieces and stacking them near the area he planned to make the fire so they would be as dry as possible and close at hand. He dug a pita few feet across into the earthen floor and made a decently sized fire in it. There was a hole in the roof, so he didn’t think smoke was going to be much of an issue, and they certainly weren’t lacking ventilation.

The barn was old, but there was some dry straw in the loft. It was the most suitable option for bedding. He did his best to create a space that would be off the cold ground, layering pine boughs in a thick mat, then topping it generously with the straw. Over that he laid the last dry wool blanket from the cart.

All of this took only a fraction of the time it would have taken a human, and when Sypha drove the horses in through the door – cart and all – he was finished.

They closed the door and looked at one another in the glow of the flames, which were crackling merrily away in the pit he had made to contain the blaze and warm the earth. Dawn was breaking – dim grey light showed through all the cracks between the boards. Despite this, it felt warmer in the barn already, and it was good to be out of the sleet.

“I can’t lift him,” Sypha said from her position leaning over Trevor’s alarmingly still figure. A thin layer of ice had formed over the blanket covering him, and over Sypha’s clothes as well.

Adrian didn’t wait for her to say more, he jumped into the cart and carefully gathered Trevor’s large shapeto his chest, bringing him to the bedding. It was apparent as soon as the man was in his arms that he was deathly cold all over, limp, and his heart was beating too slowly, but his breath came fast and shallow. The blood at his temple was congealing into a sticky, mess, but it was at least clotting. Adrian laid the man down on the wool and began to remove his wet clothing, the light of the fire casting irregular shadows behind them.

It was surreal to him – he had never seen Trevor look anything but strong, obnoxious, or at worst, stone-drunk and covered in his own piss and sick. He had been injured many times, but never like this; Trevor was accustomed to living outside, so he was usually well-prepared for most conditions even though he often found himself asleep face-down in the dirt outside of a tavern. He knew better than to sit in the rain without his fur to protect him, but he’d let Sypha wear it for several hours, and by the time he put it on his other clothing was already wet and he’d caught a chill. Seeing the normally powerful warrior this way was terrifying. Adrian found his fingers trembling lightly as he worked Trevor’s boots off of his feet and laid them aside, then removed his other clothing.

When the man was naked Adrian took his pulse properly as his mother had taught him to do, and frowned at how slow it was. He was used to the steady throb of Trevor’s heartbeat, but now it sounded wrong. He trailed his fingertips over the bloodied temple, and smoothed his rain-soaked hair back from his brow.

Sypha knelt beside him, her face pinched with worry, but she was clearly keeping her cool. He small loss of composure earlier was long gone, and she was now intent on dealing with the situation and remaining calm. “We need to get him under some warm blankets. Most of them are soaked from the trip. I think we should lay with him for now, to warm him up.”

They covered Trevor with the driest remaining blanket, positioning him as close as they could to the heat of the fire, but it wasn’t enough. The barn was drafty and it would take time for the fire to start throwing significant heat. He moaned, waking slightly when he was moved and speaking in a slurred, incomprehensible voice.

Adrian began to remove his own wet clothes. He slung his coat over the cart and pulled his shirt over his head, but Sypha stopped him with a hand on his arm. Her touch felt searingly hot on his skin.

His inhumanly freezing cold skin.

“Do you remember the spell for the clothes?” she asked tactfully, rubbing his arm.

“I do,” he said, realizing that there was little he could do to help since being out in the storm for hours on end had robbed him of any vestiges of warmth. He was dripping, frigid, and probably felt like a corpse.

His body’s reaction to temperatures was strange when measured in human terms. He was able to tolerate a wide range of conditions without discomfort. He did produce some of his own heat, but it was slight, and he couldn’t hold onto it very easily. He took more after vampires than humans in this area. Cold often felt good to him, comforting and pleasant, and it did not bother him to literally freeze like snow or ice. He could also tolerate extreme heat – when he called his fire it was searing hot – but it didn’t really warm him through unless he held it for some time. The only thing that made Adrian as warm as humans was drinking blood or physically being in a warm place for awhile, so that he could heat up. While he enjoyed warmth, it was largely unnecessary, more of an indulgence than a basic need.

“I’ll lay with him for now. If you could dry out the blankets and clothes, and see to the horses and Daisy, that would be a really big help, okay?”

Adrian stood there with his sopping shirt in his hands and his wet hair dripping rivulets onto his chest, feeling an awful mixture of helpless frustration and anxiety. He watched Sypha strip off until she was naked, then she climbed into the bedding behind Trevor and put her arms around him, rubbing his skin until his eyes opened and he looked in her direction. His pupils were wide and unfocused, but at least he was conscious.

“S’r’lly c-cold,” he said, a tremor passing through him, which Adrian took to be a good sign that his body was at least attempting to get back to a more normal temperature. “This inn s-sucks.”

“I know Trev,” Sypha said gently, kissing his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut, his brows pinched together. He was still breathing too quickly.

“F-feel like sh-shit Syph,” he said pitifully. “Promise I wo- I won’t drink for awhile after this. Can’t ‘member it. Was I bein’n asshole?”

Sypha glanced at Adrian worriedly, then turned back to Trevor. She looked so small beside him, her little hands rubbing his cold skill to try and bring back the circulation and help him warm up.

“You’re not drunk Trev, you hit your head. You don’t remember?”

There was a long pause, in which the hunter seemed to be trying to look around the barn. He didn’t answer the question.

He was obviously confused, which could be explained by a concussion, and exacerbated by the prolonged cold. Adrian wanted to examine him a bit more carefully, but he knew that there was little they could do for him besides get him warm, keep him hydrated and fed, and hope that he felt better after some rest. Adrian knew from the time he’d spent in his mother’s clinic that these types of injuries could take awhile to heal, and the prospect of adding several days to their trip was not very palatable, but there was nothing for it. If Trevor was hurt then he would need time. The last thing he should be doing was marching into Dracula’s castle and getting his head banged around. Chances were that the last Belmont had suffered such injuries before. A singular instance usually healed well, but repeated blows to the head could have serious and even permanent effects. As a homeless alcoholic monster hunter Trevor was a prime candidate for such afflictions; there was no telling how many times he may have been concussed in his life.

The thought that anything could harm the man made Adrian feel irrationally, his instincts flaring hotly and urging him to stay close to his partner and keep him safe from even the most paltry dangers. It was more difficult than he wanted to acknowledge to be unable to lay with him right now or contribute in any way.

He tried not to let himself be crushed under all of the distressing possibilities as he went about fulfilling Sypha’s requests that he care for the animals and dry the clothes and extra blankets. He took his time, sulking over not being able to help more directly. He gave the horses some oats and a few apples and then did the same for Daisy. When she was finished, he milked her.

He wrinkled his nose at the prospect of drinking warm goat milk, but Sypha accepted a mug and sat up, downing the whole thing quickly, then asked for a second. She drank that too and patted her stomach, licking the white from her upper lip.

“That’s great, I love milk,” she said thankfully, taking a third mug and looking to Trevor.

“Are you thirsty, honey?” she asked him, and he just grunted in answer. He was still shivering, and hadn’t much improved in the half hour or so that Adrian had filled with menial tasks.

“Trevor, you need to sit up so you can drink some milk. It’s nice and warm,” Adrian said and knelt behind the man so he could assist him into a sitting position.

Trevor complained at the cold when the open air touched his skin and generally whined and protested, saying that his head hurt and he was tired and to leave him alone, but when the mug was pressed to his lips he accepted the fresh milk and drank the whole cup. Adrian eased him back down afterwards, pulling the blanket over him and assuaging his own worries by stroking the man’s still wet hair with his fingers. Just touching him, however small the contact,soothed Adrian’s anxieties. He did the same to Sypha, noting how much warmer she felt under his hand by comparison. She jumped at his cold touch. He withdrew his hand, offering an apologetic look.

“I’ll go check the area and bring more wood. When I come back, you should set up some simple wards. I don’t expect we will be going anywhere for at least a day. He is concussed and hypothermic. He needs rest.”

“Okay sweetheart, I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him and the fire. Don’t go far, okay?”

“I won’t. I’ll stay within earshot.”

Adrian pulled clothing on and left the barn to scout in several wide arcs around their site, collecting as much firewood as he could find along the way and bringing it back inside, out of the still pattering sleet. He also kept his senses sharpened to the possible presence of night creatures, but they had all gone to ground to wait out the daylight, dim though it was. Evidence of their presence nearby was easily identified, and he expected that come nightfall they would return and try their luck at turning their party into dinner. They would not be successful.

On his way back to the barn Adrian came upon the trail of a hare. It would be good to bring meat back, and save him from hunting something later on. He quickly closed in on the small animal and grabbed it, not bothering to indulge in any kind of sport – he had things to do and this was only a matter of convenience. He held the wriggling, terrified creature in his grasp and considered that even the paltry amount of blood it contained would serve to warm his icy skin, but the prospect of biting into the furry throat was far from appetizing in light of recent events.

Never one to allow his own comfort to supersede his sense of duty, Adrian buried his fangs into the small neck and consumed what the animal had to offer, feeling the heat circulating through him and quickly bringing rosy warmth to his cheeks. He had to fight a shiver of distaste at the thin, unpleasant quality; He couldn’t help that all meals would now be compared to the heady elixir of Sypha’s blood, or that nothing else would be able to hold a candle to it. He felt like an ungrateful, spoiled brat for wanting to turn his nose up at it, and he quickly forced silent the part of him which whined in protest, preferring to think in terms of how lucky he was that he had other options now.

When he was finished he quickly skinned and gutted the hare and returned to Sypha and Trevor, stacking the wood he had collected onto the large pile already amassed, and hanging his catch in one of the colder corners of the barn where it would keep until they decided to cook it.

“Any change?” he asked, kneeling and looking over the hunter’s figure.

“Not really, he doesn’t seem to know what’s going on. He thinks he’s drunk.”

“That’s not surprising, I believe short term memory problems and confusion are normal with this type of injury, and the cold probably isn’t helping. I don’t know how long it will take for him to feel better. I suppose that depends on the severity of the blow, and the nature of the damage. A concussion is a brain injury, Sypha. Like a bruise. It can take a long time to heal, sometimes weeks or more. There is no way for us to tell how Trevor will be affected, or how much time he will need,” the dhampir explained, tracing his fingers over the cut on the hunter’s temple. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. It needed to be cleaned; there was blood streaked down the side of Trevor’s face and neck, in his hair, and in his ear.

He was still breathing too quickly, but it was easing, and his heart rate was stable, if too slow, despite how awful he looked. He was pallid and still cold to the touch, even to Adrian’s icy fingers. His shivering had grown weaker, more likely due to exhaustion than no longer being cold. He seemed to be hovering in between consciousness and sleep, starting awake whenever he began to drop off.

“We should clean his wound,” Adrian suggested.

Sypha nodded. “I have some clean cloth in the wagon. Do you want to stay with him for a few minutes while I get it?”

Adrian tried to school his face to a neutral expression. “I- no. I can get it, just tell me where,” he said, quickly rising to his feet and heading to the wagon to find Sypha’s supplies.

About twenty minutes later Trevor’’s injury had been cleaned with cloths boiled in hot water. Sypha had made a whole pot of it, heating it with fire magic. She asked Adrian why the already clean material needed to be boiled, and he explained carefully to her about how infections were caused by small organisms too tiny to be seen with the naked eye. He took advantage of the leftover heated water, sticking his hands right into the pot and holding them there until they were both clean and hot, then he gingerly cleaned Trevor’s wound and the areas around it of blood.

Now that the mess was gone they could see a singular gash over his temple about two inches long surrounded by a great deal of bruising and some swelling. Adrian wrapped Trevor’s head with bandages and laid a kiss on him, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He looked simply awful, his nose no longer very swollen, but still not appearing normal, both his eyes blackened beneath, and now his head was gashed and bruised as well. It was hard to recognize him through all the injuries on his face and the bandages. Adrian knew it was his fault – if he had been more careful and not left them alone in the bad weather and darkness this would not have happened.

He sat close to the fire, feeling himself finally getting warmer. He stared into the flames, listening attentively both to Trevor’s breathing and the rain pattering outside. It had eventually turned back to normal rain, the ice that had formed over everything now slicked in a coating of water, making it more slippery. Hopefully it would melt away in the next few hours.

The melancholy blonde started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Sypha beside him. She was dressed in her black dress and her outer robe.

“You look miserable,” she said softly, squatting down. She leaned close and kissed his cheek, stroking his hair and back. “I know you’re worried, but we are doing everything we can. I think he will be alright. He’s strong; Trevor won’t let a little bump on the head and some cold do him in. You should lay with him. He will relax and rest if he knows you’re close.”

Adrian took a moment to respond, wringing his hands. “I- I shouldn’t,” he sighed. “He needs warmth.”

Sypha put the back of her hand to Adrian’s cheek, then slipped her fingers beneath his coat and into the neckline of his shirt, feeling his chest. “You aren't so bad anymore,” she concluded. “Use your wolf shape. Your fur will feel warm; I think he might like that right now,” she suggested with a glitter in her eye. “I’m going to set up some protective magic around the building. Lay with him, Adrian.”

She kissed him definitively and strode out of the barn.

He smiled at her back, reminded again of why he loved her so much.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Being able to turn into a wolf had its advantages. The soul of the wolf was fiercely wild and reveled in running free, taking down large prey, and stalking through the thickest forest on silent paws. It shared many characteristics with Adrian, and they had always found common ground. He had a very good relationship with this lupine countenance – one of mutual respect.The wolf was also a secretive creature, which disliked confinement and preferred not to be seen by humans.

The only people aside from his mother who’d seen him in this shape and known he was anything other than a wild animal were Trevor and Sypha. He usually called the soul of the wolf when he needed to run, or hunt. He’d certainly never tried laying in a bed with anyone before. It had really never come up.

So Adrian felt a bit strange as he padded closer to Trevor, settling into the nest of straw and wool and pressing his furry flank against the ailing man.

The wolf’s consciousness was not something he had to fight against or placate, it submitted to him willingly and thoroughly; he could do as he pleased. But it tried to understand him and his actions, and the closest terms he could think to communicate were that he was guarding his injured pack mate. The soul of the wolf was more than satisfied by that, and he quickly found the strangeness of the situation overshadowed by the surge of protectiveness which came both from the wolf, and from his own mind.

Trevor was still shivering, bemoaning Sypha’s absence and the cold that was all around him. Dazed blue eyes opened, finding the giant white beast looming over him, unnaturally long canines protruding past his lips, familiar gold eyes regarding him in silence.

He was trying, unsuccessfully, to focus. Adrian wished he could speak like this, so he could tell the injured man to relax, to stop trying to look at him and just rest. He lowered himself carefully, squeezing as close to Trevor as he could, and tried to stretch out beside him so that his entire flank rested against the too-cold body, his tail curling over the hunter’s lower legs. Adrian laid his head beside Trevor’s, closing his eyes for a moment and simply listening to the man’s heartbeat and breathing his scent.

“Adrian?” Trevor said after a minute.

He touched his nose against damp brown hair in answer, nuzzling affectionately.

Another couple of minutes passed and it seemed his charge was falling asleep. Trevor shifted onto his side so the fire was at his back and his head was lying on Adrian’s foreleg. He felt a hand working against his fur, not petting him so much as exploring the ruff of thick white hairs around his neck and chest.

“S’not as cold now. You’re warm. But I thought your fur would be softer. S’kinda scratchy.”

Adrian wanted to laugh at that. It came out as a chuffed snort.

“I feel like shit,” Trevor admitted in what was perhaps the most lucid statement he’d made in the last hour. He put his hand to his head, feeling the bandage there. His eyes narrowed. “What happened to my head?”

Adrian blinked quietly at him, nose very tenderly seeking out Trevor’s injury and brushing over the bandaged area with the barest touch. He licked cold fingers, closing his teeth over them and gently tugging them away from the mass of bandages. He stared at Trevor, studying him closely. He was more alert – the heat must be helping. Sypha had been right about his big furry wolf shape being helpful.

“Fine, I won’t touch it,” the injured man said after another second. He blinked, scrunching his nose and rubbing his eyes. “The light’s too bright. Everything is blurry. M’gonna sleep, kay?”

Adrian gave a short growl in answer. He watched as the hunter shifted and got a little more comfortable, tucking completely against Adrian’s body. He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and relaxed. Adrian lowered his head on his paws, curling himself around his partner’s frame until Trevor’s face was tucked into the side of his neck. He closed his eyes, listening attentively to the man’s breath. It was improving, no longer so quick and shallow, and in another couple of minutes it deepened further into proper sleep.

Adrian stayed very still, attuned to the slightest movement or change in Trevor’s condition, and also listened for Sypha to return. He could hear her walking around just outside, and eventually she re-entered and he opened his eyes to see her smiling broadly at him.

“I knew it would help if you laid with him. He’s asleep, right?” Sypha came to where they both laid, but Adrian didn’t want to move in case Trevor woke up. Gold eyes followed Sypha as she moved towards them and crouched beside Trevor, brushing her hand over his shoulder. “He’s not shivering anymore,” she pointed out. “That’s a relief.”

Adrian was rewarded with Sypha’s small hand sliding along his snout and between his ears. He leaned into her touch and she sat in front of him, crossing her legs and taking his large head in both hands, leaning in to kiss his nose. She began to rub his ears, and his tail thumped lazily in pleasure as she worked the two triangular points between her fingers. He couldn’t possibly explain how good that felt. She kept rubbing, working along his skull with her finger tips, under his chin, and down his chest.

Eventually, she tapered off the petting and just rested her hand on his head.

“I suppose I should catch up on some sleep while I can. You’ll keep watch?” she asked, and Adrian very pointedly inclined his head so there was no question that he would remain vigilant if she wanted to rest.

“Thanks, Adrian. Wake me up in a few hours and we can cook the meat you caught.”

She shuffled around until she had made herself comfortable lying against Adrian’s other flank. She’d grabbed an extra blanket to keep warm and added two more logs onto the fire. She ran her fingers absently through his fur, smiling at him with lidded eyes as she relaxed. “I always feel really safe when you’re with me,” she said to him in a sleepy voice, stroking his foreleg and paw, playing her fingers over his curved claws. Eventually her hand stilled, and her eyes closed. He dipped his head and licked her pinkened cheek, inhaling the scent of her temple. “Love you,” she mumbled, her hand loose over his paw. Moments later her breathing deepened and he knew she was asleep.

A few hours crept along in which Adrian stayed as still as he could and kept watch over his sleeping humans. It was a good time to reflect on the events of the last day, and to think about what lay ahead.

The most overwhelming and singular revelation of the past twenty-four hours was obvious: he was no longer a virgin.

It had been intense; very sensory, emotional, meaningful.

He found that he’d been unable to really separate the part of himself which was human from the part which was vampire when he was buried in Sypha, and especially as he reached capitulation. The feeling that he was two halves rolled together had been absent. It had been difficult to avoid biting her when he found completion, and he knew in the future he would need to be careful, as he did not expect that particular urge to diminish.

He was incredibly grateful that his partners knew and understood him, because he could not have hidden himself in that moment if he had tried. And he didn’t have to hide, which fed the other feelings he harboured exponentially.

Adrian found his love and appreciation for both Trevor and Sypha had only grown after the experience. He felt safe with them, and he trusted them. He wanted to share something with Trevor that was as intense and satisfying as what he had shared with Sypha. So far, most of the ‘advances’ in recent days had focused on his relationship with Sypha. That was not because he desired Trevor any less, it was only that Sypha was so interested in being bitten and sharing her blood that it hastened the other progressions between them as well.

Emotion, sex, and blood were undoubtedly connected for Adrian. More so now that he was feeding from Sypha with regularity. That provoked sexual reactions without fail, and he had already recognized that the impact of seeing his bite marks on her was a major turn-on for him. It stood to reason that he would find himself wanting to have sex with her when he saw her wearing the evidence of his teeth.

He hardly needed to think about it and he was growing hard – that happened whether he was a wolf or a man – and he was very curious to try more sexual things: different positions, or different roles, or simply exploring her body and finding all the ways he could wring her pleasure from it. Ultimately, that was a big part of what excited him; her enjoyment. And Trevor’s. He knew that most men would be… less than enthusiastic to bed a woman who was still wearing the very recent and blatant evidence of another man on and in her body. He felt quite the opposite. Knowing Trevor had been inside Sypha just before Adrian touched her sent a tingle of arousal through him even now and he could not explain why. In the same way, when Trevor asked him about how she tasted and whether he liked it, he’d been more than willing to admit the truth to the hunter, and doing so was thrilling and arousing.

There was another thing which kept circling his though, especially after talking to Trevor yesterday afternoon. He’d been _very_ direct about what he wanted to do to Adrian. The idea of anal sex still perturbed him, but Adrian’s desire for intimacy was beginning to outweigh his nervousness over whether he would find pleasure in the act.

Either way, the man was certainly in no shape for sex or vampire bites, so Adrian knew he had time to think about it.

Adrian shifted so he could tuck his nose into Trevor’s hair, inhaling his scent. He twisted so he could do the same to Sypha, her small body dwarfed against him.

It was easy to try and pretend that they were all on a fun adventure together, and forget that the real purpose of their journey. Truthfully, building a relationship with Trevor and Sypha was a terrible development in terms of their greater purpose. He knew it was very foolish to formulate strong attachments to the people who were supposed to be his allies in this fight.

He also knew there was a good chance he might act rashly in their defense when the time came, instead of taking any possible opportunity to find victory. He could not afford to be selfish, no matter how much he loved them and wanted them safe. If he was, millions of people around the Earth would perish. It was a stupid thing to let himself grow so attached, but it was far too late to try and change his feelings.

If he didn’t need their help so badly, Adrian knew that at this point he would leave Trevor and Sypha behind, and go ahead on his own. Adrian alone knew what it was to fight his father, and being mortal did not fit well into the equation.

Before – when he first met the hunter and Speaker in Gresit – he had been willing to accept the probability of their deaths for the greater good.

Now?

It was harder.

Nearly impossible.

He had a duty which was larger than his own feelings, or theirs. He couldn’t shirk this; there was nobody else who could do it. Adrian didn’t know if _he_ could do it, even with help. He had never beaten his father in all the many times they had battled, and there had been _so many_. He’d never even come close to winning. He needed the help, and they were the strongest he had ever encountered. It seemed like it was their destiny to face Dracula together, even though Adrian didn’t necessarily believe in such things.

Something terrible was coming – or rather, they were running towards to it. The ominous sensation intensified each day they drew nearer to the castle. It was intangible, nothing palpable or measurable. He couldn’t say when it began, or put his finger on what it felt like. He just knew. It was like an extra sense – like the way a person knows a storm is coming – Adrian could feel himself approaching something of immense gravity and importance.

He tried to tell himself that he didn’t want this responsibility; he silently cursed being forced into this position with nowhere to go but straight into the jaws of doom, but that was not completely true. Adrian knew he needed to do this, and he was at peace with that. He was ready to give everything in an electrifying, climactic battle that would push him past his own limits. Part of him anticipated the eventual showdown with zeal and near breathless exhilaration.

His soul sang when he was pushed to the brink of his own ability. He hardly ever felt more alive than when he was flying as fast as he could with his sword at his fingertips and his body working to its full potential. Within the sweet, gentle man Adrian knew himself to be, was also a fierce warrior who longed for a real challenge in an opponent he could fight against without holding back.

Vlad Dracula Tepes, his father, was that opponent.

No matter what the moral, or ethical reasons for his decision to take up the mantle of defending Wallachia, there would always be a part of him which simply craved pitting himself against someone stronger than he was.

It was hardly the singular motivating factor in all of this – he wasn’t doing this because of some silly desire to fight – he was doing it because it was _right_. The widespread destruction, pain and death Adrian had witnessed in recent months were not a reasonable price for humanity to pay for their mistakes, even though people were often stupid and pointlessly cruel.

Adrian was deeply saddened by losing his mother, and he knew he hadn’t really dealt with that yet. He’d been unfairly abandoned by the only family he had left, but he had to look past his own feelings; his father needed to be stopped. He could mourn afterwards, when the people were safe. In time, he would let himself process the things that he kept tightly locked away, lest they overwhelm him.

The white wolf grit its teeth, overcome by anguish when he thought of an endless, lonely future. It made his heart wrench and in that moment he understood his father, even as he recognized the selfishness of his actions. Forever was a very long time to be alone. It was more time than Adrian could pretend to comprehend from his own vantage point of only twenty years.

He regarded the two humans on either side of him. Precious and fragile, he would do everything in his power to try and keep them safe in the coming days – and beyond that, if they survived – but he wouldn’t insult them by trying to get them to sit out the final battle.

Perhaps one day he would grow brave enough to ask them the same thing his father had asked of his mother – that they join him in eternity. His mother had refused, but maybe Trevor or Sypha would not. Adrian didn’t want to endure alone after the natural course of their lives ran out, but ultimately it wasn’t his choice and he was not even certain that he possessed the ability to change a human into a vampire. That wasn’t something for him to think about right now. They had much more pressing things to attend to than his selfish whimsy.

He would face his father with Trevor and Sypha as his allies. He had chosen well; they were the strongest people he’d ever met.

No matter how his instincts told him to protect them, Adrian knew he didn’t need to. His hunter and Speaker were thoroughly committed to seeing this through, and they were deadly in a fight. He nearly purred at the realization, loving the idea that his partners were just as dangerous as he was.

They weren't fragile or helpless; they were amazing.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian was still laying with Trevor by the time the afternoon came and the sun showed its face through a gap in the clouds. The rain had tapered off, and Sypha let the animals out and tethered them nearby to graze. She had only napped for a couple of hours before she woke and complained it was too hot by the fire. It had warmed up a lot and they let the flames die down a bit, the risk of Trevor freezing now well passed.

Sypha took the hare that Adrian had caught that morning and started to make a stew from it, combining it into the cooking pot with vegetables and spices. She told Adrian that he should stay with Trevor until it was time to eat.

He had no issue obliging that request, and he wasn’t entirely certain he would be able to extricate himself from the hunter’s arms without jostling him anyhow. The man had embraced his furry side tightly and was clinging to him like he was an oversized teddy bear. It was rare that the grizzled, roughened hunter needed anything from anyone, and Adrian rather liked the idea that he could offer comfort and warmth when Trevor was injured.

The bandage on his head was still firmly in place, but there was no telling how he would feel once he woke. It was unlikely he would remember the events of the evening past, but hopefully moving forward he would be better off. Adrian fully expected it would be at least another day or two before they could leave their shelter, but he hoped it wasn’t more than that.

“Nnnnn...” both Adrian and Sypha were alerted to Trevor waking up as he groaned and put his hand to his head, his eyes squeezing together.

He felt the bandage there for a moment, then his eyes popped open and he sat up far too quickly. “Jesus Christ,” he complained, hunching against Adrian’s flank and looking like he might be sick. He took a long moment in that position with one hand holding his likely pounding head, the other digging into Adrian’s fur for purchase, before he seemed to decide he wasn’t going to puke. He pushed himself up a little more, sitting straighter and cracking his eyes open.

He squinted, as though the low fire and dim barn were exceptionally bright. “What the fuck happened?”

Adrian licked his face, searching for any sign that he was still suffering serious side effects. His eyes were a little odd looking, the pupils too wide and mismatched, and the dhampir knew that he wasn’t seeing straight yet. He needed to ask him a few questions to get a better idea of his state of mind. He decided to hold off for a few minutes, since Trevor was currently leaning heavily against him and he didn’t want to startle him.

“Why are you a dog?” Trevor asked in an irritated voice, scowling at him, but still clutching his flank for leverage.

“He’s a wolf, Trev,” Sypha corrected, earning a snort from the lupine figure. Sypha shot him a wink and Adrian grinned at her, which looked a little terrifying, all things considered. Sypha was unfazed, and turned her eyes on Trevor, her voice softening when she spoke next. “How are you feeling?”

Trevor was slowly absorbing their back and forth, likely distracted by pain. “Feeling? Like I got horse-kicked in the head. I can’t remember anything since… uh… I don’t know. I guess since you guys fucked. Which was incredibly hot, by the way. But it’s a blur after that… except for cold. And wet. Fuck,” he broke off, burying his face against Adrian’s side. “I should lay down again,” he said into the white fur, slowly letting himself slide down until he was curled in a fetal position beside the large white wolf.

Adrian shifted, moving to get up so he could change back and speak. Trevor’s hands tightened in his fur. “Uh, can you just… just hold off. If I hold on to you the room doesn’t spin so much,” he said, the pitiful tone in his voice belying just how badly he was feeling. Adrian was torn, but ultimately he acquiesced, settling again. Trevor’s fingers relaxed and the furrow of his brows softened marginally.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” he said after a minute.

Sypha filled him in, coming to sit beside him and bringing some water for him to drink. She coaxed him to sit up and he ended up leaning his back against Adrian as though he were a chair. He only stayed that way long enough to swallow the contents of the mug, then said he would puke if he didn’t lie back down again.

After he settled and rested a few more minutes he suddenly spoke up again. “So when are we leaving? We can’t stay here, we need to go.”

Adrian had grown tired of being unable to speak, so he released the soul of the wolf, his shape instantly changing back to normal. He was lying on his stomach beside Trevor, propped up on his elbows. He stretched, stiff from hours of sitting in the same position, and sat upright, crossing his legs. “You need to rest. We are reasonably safe here, and we have enough supplies to remain for a few extra days. At least until you can see straight. Preferably until you can fight.”

“Psshhh I’ll be fine in a couple of hours. I’m tougher than I look. It’s not the first time I’ve been knocked in the head or half frozen. It’ll take more than that to slow me down,” Trevor’s voice held a bravado that was hardly convincing, between his two black eyes, obvious inability to focus, broken nose, and bandaged head. Adrian glanced at Sypha and noted that she was wearing the same flat, unconvinced expression he was.

“As much as I would love to believe that, Belmont,” Adrian said with a small smile, “I don’t particularly want to put your claims to the test. We are staying here until you have healed more. You’re unable to defend yourself right now. If we meet more night creatures – and we will – you will be useless, and a liability.”

“I’m not a fucking liability, I’m fine!” Trevor retorted petulantly, sitting up and trying to get to his feet. He managed to gain his legs, but as soon as he stood upright he wavered to the side, grasping blindly at the open air. Adrian was there in an instant, lacing an arm around his back and under his armpits. Trevor tried to pull himself free but ended up leaning heavily against the dhampir. Frustrated, he pushed fruitlessly at Adrian’s chest. “Get off me,” he whined, pouting. “I can fucking walk. Let go.”

Adrian was tempted to let him prove himself wrong, but knew it would be cruel. “Trevor. You have a head injury, and you should be resting instead of acting like a child,” his voice was smooth, with a mocking edge that he couldn’t seem to help; Trevor brought that out in him when he was behaving in such a frustrating manner. Still, Adrian wasn’t trying to antagonize him. He relaxed his hold slightly. Trevor kept a hand on him, but stood on his own.

“I- uh- I gotta piss,” he said, looking at Adrian pitifully.

“I’ll help you outside,” he answered, well aware of the blow it would be to Trevor’s ego to require assistance with such a mundane task. He could easily have scooped the man up and carried him, but the blonde knew better than to tread on his partner’s independence that way. He provided only the most necessary assistance in pulling on a shirt and getting out of the barn so he could relieve himself.

Outside, the bright sun peeking through still swollen clouds forced Trevor to snap his eyes shut with a grimace and he nearly lost his legs again, Adrian’s arm the only thing which kept him upright. The dhampir saw him bite back angry protests and when they reached a tree he adamantly told Adrian to fuck off, bracing himself heavily against the trunk under his own steam.

The blonde respectfully gave him some privacy. It was hard to see Trevor in such a state, but he understood the feeling. Considering how helpless Adrian had been in the cage, he didn’t think there was any reason for the man to be embarrassed; Adrian had faced the ultimate loss of dignity before him already. This was a drop in the bucket by comparison.

When they returned, it was with great relief that Trevor laid back down and closed his eyes. “I think I have to sleep more,” he admitted, finally accepting that he wasn’t going to be chopping the heads off of any beasts today. Sypha kissed his cheek.

“I’ll wake you up for some stew in a little while, okay honey?”

“Don’t call me pet names Syph, I hate that,” he answered, but he kissed her back. “Thanks for saving my ass,” he added after a moment.

“You owe me one,” she said sweetly, earning a grumble of protest.

He was snoring again in the next minute.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

It took another two days before Trevor healed well enough to be fit for travel. They were tedious and boring, broken up only by meals, idle talk, and the occasional fight with whatever happened by in the night. Adrian spent the majority of the time prowling around outside, too restless to stay in the barn and listen to Trevor complain.

He was, without question, the absolute _worst_ patient on the entire fucking planet. He whined. He protested. He tried to get up and run away to prove he didn’t need anymore rest, which resulted in him being thrown unceremoniously over Adrian’s shoulder and returned to his bed, where Sypha threatened to tie him if he tried to escape again.

Adrian tested Trevor’s coordination, reflexes and pupillary response daily, and by the end of the second day he threw the hunter his sword and told him that if he could land a blow, they would go. Trevor was obviously not in top condition, but he was recovering well and he managed to at least block a few blows, though he didn’t land one until the next morning.

The bruising under his eyes had begun to fade, and his broken nose seemed better, although it was still tender. The gash on his temple was scabbed and the swelling had reduced considerably. He still suffered moments of confusion, brief intervals of uncalled for anger and short spells where he was ‘off’, but overall he was improving and they did not have weeks on end at their disposal for all of these things to fade. Adrian knew he had headaches as well, but Trevor was good at hiding the pain and the blonde reasoned that if he was well enough to convincingly fake it, then that was satisfactory.

His humour, wit and libido were perfectly intact, and Adrian grew tired of tasteless sexual comments and invitations to get naked since they had nothing better to do, still having to fight the resulting blush that came whenever the sleeping man woke hard and rolled onto him. Sypha was equally unswayed by his wiles, much to his frustration. Trevor – who was already intolerable due to boredom and frustration at his own helplessness – wasn’t used to being denied, especially by Sypha, and made himself extra annoying in response. He finally shut up when they tethered Daisy beside him and told him that if he was so damned horny he could have the goat. The brown and white creature bleated at Trevor and bit his hand when he tried to shove her away, standing her ground. She was the only thing more stubborn than the last Belmont, and finally he rolled onto his side and put his back to everyone, pouting in silence.

Fortunately, Trevor spent the majority of the time asleep, and that seemed to help more than anything. By the third morning he was obviously unable to spend any longer laying down, and they made the decision to continue on their way.

The weather remained frigid, but the days melted the frost and when it snowed it didn’t yet stick. They were more careful about staying dry and warm, and the next days and nights passed with few issues aside from the more frequent encounters with monsters, and the numerous grisly corpses that decorated their path.

Finally, six days after they had set off from the cottage, they rounded a bend and the village they had been seeking for what felt like weeks lay before their eyes, ransacked, smoldering, and reeking of death. They halted the wagon, the late afternoon sun illuminating the picture of horror that was left after human settlement was ravaged by not just the night horde, but Dracula himself. There were few bodies save those of livestock. The corpses had all been collected for a far more sinister purpose, but almost every building in the village – and it was a reasonably sized settlement which formerly housed a few hundred occupants – had been razed to the earth by hellfire. The stone skeletons were all that remained of the burned out homes and the large church that was at the center of the town.

Trevor eyed the destruction coldly.

Sypha couldn’t hide her sadness and disappointment, but was well-passed the point where she could do more than accept the reality of what lay before them.

Adrian felt anger licking at his insides, his jaw set, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

Grim, but unsurprised, the trio directed the horses to take them into the ashes with little hope that anyone yet lived.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on this chapter - I am fairly certain terms like 'concussion' and 'hypothermia' were not yet recognized in 1476, but lets chock it up to Lisa and Adrian's medical knowledge gleaned from Drac's vast resources and just suspend disbelief a little, alright? Great. Much Appreciated
> 
> Looking for something else to read? I absolutely must recommend VendelaP's fantastic story 'Twisted Paths.' 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989780/chapters/57707188
> 
> In this modern AU, formerly homeless and impoverished Trevor lands a scholarship at an Ivy League university where he meets Sypha, a bright and free-spirited history major. Now in their second year, the best friends encounter a mysterious and wealthy stranger. Adrian Tepes is certainly unusual, but Trevor can't seem to get him out of his head...
> 
> VendelaP's writing is evocative and simply lovely, and I am absolutely hooked on this fic which is getting better and more intense with each chapter. It is well worth the read!


	28. Part Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed when I copy/paste my work into A03 it seems to delete spaces at random, especially between two sentences. I try to catch them all, but they are sneaky! Hopefully there aren't too many in this chapter.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Eight**

The residual stench of sulfur permeated virtually every surface in the deserted, eerily silent ruins of the village. The horses hooves and the creaking of the cart along the cobbled street were the only noises, save the rasping of the wind through broken windows, and birds squabbling over scraps of rotted flesh. Adrian eyed two fat ravens who seemed to be the only creatures to benefit from the destruction, so laden with meat that they were hardly able to fly between the hollow remnants of the buildings. Corpses of animals –goats, pigs, horses, dogs – were scattered, already plundered for their most tender parts, crawling with maggots and leaking putrid fluids.

Nobody said anything, because what could they possibly say? They had all seen the results of the horde, but Adrian had never seen this. He’d never witnessed what happened when his father descended directly on the human populace with intent to kill. It was a barren and ashy sprawl, and it hurt his heart, because he knew the kind of magic that caused this. The same kind he himself wielded. This was the product of intense, prolonged hellfire. In many places the stone itself had begun to melt beneath the flames, leaving it misshapen and black. The residual scent was acrid and stung unpleasantly. It was even more overpowering than the smell of the corpses. Sypha put her hand to her face, her nose wrinkled from trying to breathe.

This was complete and total annihilation of life. Not a plant or animal survived here except for those who had come under their own power after the fact. Adrian tried to imagine what state of mind it took to do this, and he had difficulty visualizing his father intentionally and forcibly perpetrating such an act, even though the evidence of it was all around him. He really had lost all reason, all compassion.

Trevor… he wore perhaps the most grave expression of any of them. He had seen this before, for he had visited what remained of Targoviste after Dracula had destroyed it. He’d also witnessed virtually every horror wrought on the land and the people of Wallachia since. His face was like cold stone, his eyes lacking their glint of fire. He left the wagon and went of foot, moving easily between the rows of burnt-out homes, his boots crunching over rubble heedlessly, his hand resting on the pommel of the Morning Star.

When they came to the center of the town and stood in the shadow of the church, they stopped and all three of them turned to face one another.

Trevor was the first to speak, his hand still grasping his weapon in an unconscious reflex. “There’s nothing here. We should keep going.”

Adrian nodded numbly, finding it difficult to actually summon his voice.

Sypha put her hand on Adrian’s arm. “Hana’s home was on the other side of the town, far into the woods. We should at least check if there is anything left.”

Adrian looked down at her hand which grasped his arm gently, his gloved fingers balling into fists. Her optimism and will to always continue forward was unbearable in that moment. His chest felt like it would burst at the irate sensation of _wrongness_ that was building with each step they took. He whirled in a movement so fast it was invisible and smashed his fist into the side of the church, the tall stone wall giving way under the force of the blow as though it were made of paper. It heaved, trembled, and suddenly buckled on itself, large chunks of stone raining down around Adrian and crashing to the ground.

“GOD DAMMIT!” he shouted, his voice swallowed up by the sound of the wall collapsing. Trevor reacted immediately, grabbing Sypha and pulling her out of the area where the rocks were falling. The horses reared and spooked, bolting down the street, cart bumping behind them. Adrian withdrew his hand, a cloud of dust billowing up around him, debris settling over his coat and in his hair. He felt tears stinging his eyes, and he slumped forward against the pile of rubble, shoulders shaking as he cried, thinking of his father killing so many innocent people, literally _every_ person who had lived here.

After a few minutes, Adrian’s silent sobs tapered and he just curled his fingers helplessly against the stones. He heard Trevor shifting on his feet. He and Sypha were standing behind him, giving him a chance to process the strong emotions that seeing the product of his father’s wrath had stirred up.

“Adrian,” Trevor said, his voice flat. “Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do here.”

It took him another minute to compose himself, and finally he stood straight, dusting off his shoulders. His cheeks glistened with the tracks of his tears. “You’re right. There’s nothing left here,” he said evenly, tone devoid of emotion. He turned in the direction the horses had gone and silently walked away from the remnants of the church to find them.

Nobody mentioned his outburst.

They continued down the road once they had collected the animals and the few items which had spilled from the cart, wordless and somber. Adrian’s face was set in a hard expression very similar to Trevor’s.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

There was no difference in the other side of the town. The same endless graveyard of burned buildings stretched across the whole thing.

Adrian was morose and quiet, allowing Trevor to lead their party, Sypha a few steps behind him. The dhampir lagged at the rear, needing some space. They walked with the cart rather than riding, as they frequently needed to steer around obstacles in the road such as rubble or larger animal remains. The desolation stretched in every direction until it was broken up by the trees surrounding the village. The closest ones were only charred and bare remnants of their former selves, but beyond that the forest was intact.

Adrian had stopped looking, choosing instead to study his feet, his boots now covered in clumps of ashes. He couldn’t seem to unclench his jaw or his fists, a foreign, deep-seated rage mounting steadily as they cleared the far edge of the town and drew into the forest once more. He ignored Sypha’s attempts at placation, shaking off her hand when she placed it on his shoulder and asked him if he was alright. He wasn’t trying to be rude, he simply couldn’t tolerate the comforting gesture at the moment. Trevor called her and Adrian heard them talking ahead of him, beside the horses.

“Syph, give him some space,” he told her, putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her forward. “Do you remember where that old lady’s place was?”

Sypha glanced back to the blonde, her face drawn and sad. She slumped a little and turned back to look where they were going, studying the trees and the road. “Further. There was a fork in the road, then her cottage was to the right down a small path branching off of it. It was hard to see if you weren’t looking for it.”

“Alright, then we’ll keep going.”

It was early evening by the time they reached the fork Sypha had described. The cottage really was well outside of the town, and the scent of hellfire and death had receded, replaced by the earthy musk of rotting wood. It was a relief to be away from it. Adrian’s jaw relaxed marginally as they put more and more distance between themselves and the dead village. There were a few homesteads along their path, but unfortunately each of them shared the same fate – they were razed to cinders and devoid of life save buzzing flies and scavenging birds picking apart the scraps. It did not seem as though anyone had been spared, not even those who were barely part of the town itself. His father had been thorough and brutal in his efforts.

Adrian was growing desensitized to the grisly scene that repeated itself time and again; he felt more numb than angry with each new discovery. He had yet to utter a single word unless Trevor asked him about what he could sense nearby, or occasionally requested that he remove an obstacle from their path, such as a downed tree.

Adrian already knew his father had been slaughtering people for the last six months. He had seen the destruction and death, corpses, desperate survivors who clung miserably to one another, cowering at the slightest noise. He had seen traumatized and orphaned children, women clutching their dead babies, husbands clinging to the remains of their wives. He had witnessed entire cities overtaken by monsters, burned and ransacked and then even the survivors sometimes warred with one another, fighting over meager remnants of food, ale, or shelter.

The night horde was terrifying, but at the very least there was a chance that some people could get away from them. They could be evaded, killed. Trevor had taught some villages how to fight them, and those people, in turn, spread the knowledge, and there were places where resistance was working. People were not happy, but at least some of them were still alive. Humans had an amazing drive to survive, especially as a group. They were not easy to crush, even when they lost everything. They found hope in the bleakest places, and used it to brace themselves against even the most horrifying trauma.

What he had witnessed today, however, was far more disturbing than the damage inflicted by night creatures. They weren’t so thorough. Only a being as powerful as his father could so effectively erase every trace of life from a place. There was no chance of escape. There was no hope for people touched by Dracula’s all-encompassing fire.

Adrian was struggling to reconcile what he saw before him over and over with the man who had once taught him with endless patience and consideration how to wield the very flames that were responsible for burning these people’s homes to nothing. His heart twisted and squirmed as he reminisced about his father carrying him home that day he first found his own fire, pride evident on his face and in his voice.

Vlad Dracula Tepes, while not by any means perfect, could be a good father and a good husband when he wanted to.

Long, sharp claws were harmless and gentle when his father’s hands worked through Lisa’s hair, sweeping her blonde waves back and deftly weaving them into the wide braid she preferred.

Their family shared many moments of tenderness, love, gentleness. He was absorbed in those memories now, reflecting on some of the clearer ones which popped up in his thoughts.

_Adrian was secured in his father’s lap, a large, heavy volume spread open between them. It was confusing, and the endless pages were packed with so many words that they were all running together after awhile. Adrian’s small finger traced over the text, sounding out the letters a few at a time, pausing to ask questions about what the information meant when he completed sentences. His father was patiently teaching him to read, with Lisa nearby smiling to herself as she recorded data from one of her latest medical experiments._

_He had already mastered the alphabet, and was learning to speak several languages – that came more easily than reading them._

_After learning about sentences, grammar and punctuation, his father had decided it was time to confront actual books. Adrian was determined to demonstrate how smart and capable he was, but the two inch thick historical volume was extremely daunting. He barely understood what any of the long, complicated phrases meant, but that didn’t stop him from trying his hardest. His father knew best, and always pushed him to try as hard as he could. Eventually, however, the information was overwhelming and he grew frustrated at his lack of progress, grabbing the large text and snapping it shut. The tiny child tilted his head to look up to his father’s face, meeting the wine-coloured eyes with a pout._

“ _Father, it all looks the same. There are so many words! Can we stop?”_

_Adrian felt his father’s claws in his hair, stroking it affectionately, as he often did. He leaned into the touch, forgetting about the book._

“ _I suppose that’s enough for today. You’ve made good progress, son. Now go play in your room before bed. Your mother will come to tuck you in shortly.”_

“ _Okay,” Adrian twisted and wrapped his small arms around his father’s neck, squeezing tightly before he hopped easily down and sprinted up the stairs in a blur of movement._

_He stilled when he reached the top, quietly creeping back down a couple steps so he could watch his parents talk. His mother set down her recording materials and strode across the room to the opulent couch where Dracula still sat. It was arranged before a massive fireplace which was well-stocked and throwing plenty of heat. It cast them both in a ruddy, orange glow. Adrian could see the light glinting in her pale hair, her cheeks rosy. She wore a light coloured blouse with a fringe at the collar and at the ends of the sleeves. His father’s imposing, broad figure shifted towards her, his eyes softening when they met hers. He tilted his head slightly so she could slide her fingers through his black mane. At her touch, his eyes closed and he leaned into her side, entirely complacent under her fingertips._

“ _Vlad,” she said in an amused, mildly chastising tone, kissing him on the top of the head. “He’s only two and a half. Those books you are teaching him from are too serious and violent. Children don’t need to know about historical battles and military strategy. We have children’s books, why don’t you start with something more appropriate?”_

_There was a pause, and Adrian saw his mother gathering something, probably the books she thought were better suited. He peered between the thick wooden balusters of the staircase. He wasn’t tired, and he loved sneaking around the castle, trying not to be seen. His father always knew where he was, but he never gave his location away to his mother, who would have scolded him and sent him back to his room. His small hands gripped the ornately carved wood and his bright gold eyes glittered, reflecting the light of the fire which roared in the hearth below. He saw his father take one of the books from Lisa’s hand, examining the cover, which featured a colourful image of a fantastical forest filled with whimsical animals and plants._

_He perused the book, then blinked his carmine eyes at his wife, a puzzled expression on his face. “What is he supposed to learn from this rubbish?”_

_Lisa pulled the book from her husband’s hand, setting it gently out of the way and sinking into his lap, gathering his palm in both of hers, which were dwarfed by his size. “He’s a child, let him have a childhood. He’s growing so much faster than we thought he would, and he is already speaking and behaving as though he were five or six. He’s absorbing everything so quickly. We need to remember to teach him how to play, and have fun. It will be difficult for him to interact with other children as it is, but it’s important that he develop imagination and social skills. Children don’t need to know the strategical errors that were made in battles five hundred years ago. They need to develop their creativity and learn things like kindness and how their actions affect others. These children’s books will teach morals, and right from wrong. Vlad, I want our son to be a kind man someday, just as I know you can be, when you put your mind to it.”_

_His father regarded his mother fondly, stroking her back and bending to kiss her temple. “Only you make me that way, Lisa,” he said reverently, cupping her cheek carefully and giving her a smile. Adrian never saw his father smile like that except when he looked at her – like he was entirely at peace. “Very well. We will introduce Adrian to the fanciful books next time we read with him.”_

_Adrian watched his embracing parents from his hiding spot a the top of the stairs. Dracula caught his gaze over Lisa’s shoulder, silently letting him know he’d been found out. He scurried quickly up to his room._

There were countless moments such as that one over the years which felt soft and pleasant, moments where his father was good to his family, even though it sometimes took Lisa’s help to point him in the right direction.

Of course, there were many other times, where he did a poor job of containing his darkness, and left Adrian furious and well aware that the man who was raising him did not share the same sense of right and wrong that other people did. He often did as he pleased, or simply did what suited him best, and let innocents fall by the wayside. He lacked compassion. As Adrian grew, and conflicts between he and his father became more pronounced and frequent, he got a much better sense of just what the man the world feared was capable of. He heard stories and even found references in human history books to events which he knew his father to be responsible for: massacres, wars, mass killings. It disgusted him and only served to make Adrian withdraw further from the man and grow closer to Lisa.

He wondered how much she actually knew of his less savory activities. His father tended to twist a story as it suited him, but in the same breath he was starkly honest with her about most things. She tried not to interfere with his business as King of Vampires, although she _would_ make her displeasure known if he crossed a line. And he had, more than once. Their wills often clashed, and sometimes his father deigned to impose ‘punishments’ that were archaic and unfair, but it was clear to Adrian that his mother loved Dracula unconditionally, and knew full-well what he was through and through.

Maybe that was why he had needed her so badly. Hers was acceptance of his darkness and his faults rolled together with a tender love for the man behind the monster. She might have been the only person ever to live who knew him so intimately yet did not fear or hate him. She never condoned his terrible deeds, yet she always accepted him back into her arms, no matter what horrible thing he’d done.

Without her, all of those softer, seemingly human aspects of Vlad Dracula Tepes had disappeared, and what was left was inflicting heedless genocide on the human populace.

Knowing the facts didn’t make accepting them any easier for Adrian. He still loved his father despite all of the horrible acts he had committed – Adrian bore the deep scar on his chest that was proof of just how volatile he could be, even to his own kin. Adrian knew that he had killed countless people, but seeing the full force of it as he had today was shocking. He still couldn’t quite grasp it, despite knowing it to be true.

So, the numb, disconnected sensation of wading through fog had descended on him, melting away the initial rage and leaving him hollow and drained in the face of so much needless death. He was barely paying attention to their progress, to Trevor and Sypha, or anything else. As darkness crept in and settled heavily over their small party, Adrian listlessly followed along behind them, only minutely aware of his surroundings.

There were no signs of human life anywhere they went. They passed the fork in the road which Sypha had described and began to hunt for a small winding branch to the right, however Trevor and Sypha were all but blind in the darkness and Adrian was quite distracted, hardly paying attention to their task and not making himself very useful.

After an hour of wandering back and forth along the path Sypha suddenly looked around them.

“Guys. Where’s Daisy?” she asked, a frown on her face. She stooped beside the wagon and gathered up the frayed remains of the goat’s tether. It was wet with saliva and crusted in dirt from dragging beside the cart.

Trevor put a hand to his face, exasperation rolling from him in waves. Adrian glanced up from his position studying the ground and noticed that the man looked strained. His eyes were tired and he guessed Trevor might be suffering a headache brought on by trying to squint through the darkness for too long.

“Sypha, I really don’t care,” he said with marked irritation, his patience thin in light of their exposed position and fruitless wandering. “It obviously doesn’t have a shred of self-preservation and I am not sticking my neck out for a fucking farm animal. We haven’t found anything anyhow. Give it up. Your witch friend is dead, just like every other person who lived here.”

Sypha gripped the rope in her fingers, pinning Trevor with a challenging expression. “If she’s dead, then why haven’t we found the remains of her cottage? Everything else was burned by fire, but this area has not been touched.”

Trevor _growled_ , and Adrian could hear his teeth grinding. “We haven’t found it because it’s dark and we are lost. This is pointless.”

“No, it’s not Trev. Daisy-”

Trevor abruptly cut Sypha off by drawing a dagger and swiftly impaling a bat-monster which had jumped out of the trees and was on a direct course with the distracted mage’s back. The blade sank home, piercing the creature’s heart. It screeched in pain and wilted, falling still.

Adrian’s attention was most effectively captured by the action, the stink of monsters and danger rousing him from his lethargic state.

It was a small flock of the winged, screeching beasts, and Trevor took several of them out of the air with his Morning Star, while Adrian sprang into the center of the pack with his sword flashing in a wide arc, severing the vast majority of them in two with a single, deadly sweep of the long blade. Sypha picked off those who avoided the men’s attacks with aptly aimed lances of ice. The entire process look only seconds, the creatures falling to the trio’s deadly force with laughable ease.

Trevor recalled his weapon, securing it at his hip while Sypha dusted leaves from her hair. Adrian wiped ichor from his sword, directing it smoothly back into its scabbard. The trio regarded the corpses as they studied the surrounding forest for more. It did not appear as though any beasts remained, but there was an audible rustling in the underbrush, and all three of them stood poised to strike whatever emerged.

A flash of brown and white appeared between the pine needles – Daisy. She emerged from between two trees, trotting quickly. She followed the trail until she was out of sight with little more than a cursory glance in their direction. Trevor was obviously considering just killing her on principle, but Sypha darted after her before he could draw his sword.

“Daisy!” she exclaimed, disappearing around a bend in the path after the wily creature. She could be heard chasing and calling, making no effort to remain quiet.

Trevor stared after her in disbelief, shaking his head. “I will never understand her attachment to that animal,” he said under his breath.

He looked intently at Adrian, who had returned to his brooding internal thoughts after the bit of action passed. He knew he needed to pull himself out of his funk, but it was proving a challenge.

The hunter had been giving the dhampir space and leaving him to his thoughts since they’d come on the wrecked village. He’d not once tried to force Adrian to participate in conversation, nor had he demonstrated any particular irritation at his unbroken silence and withdrawn behaviour. Now, with a moment alone, he finally chose to acknowledge Adrian’s reticence.

The other man moved to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing together. Trevor’s hand came to rest at the small of his back and Adrian stiffened, wishing to free himself of the contact. Yes, Trevor and Sypha were his companions and lovers, but he alone felt the personal nature of everything they had witnessed today. This was because of _his_ father, and because Adrian had not been able to stop him the first time they fought. He didn’t know what to do with those feelings and he most certainly didn’t want to be placated, if that’s what this was.

He was stone, still and unyielding, his body hard.

Trevor didn’t seem to mind, the hand on his back moving to his shoulder and squeezing it. “You can’t let it get to you,” he said in a low voice, releasing Adrian’s shoulder and moving to stand in front of him. “We have to keep our guard up right now. Those night creatures shouldn’t have come so far into range without you scenting them. We were downwind, Adrian,” Trevor eyed him seriously, and the blonde realized that he was being scolded, not mollified.

He straightened, meeting Trevor’s eyes, his own hardening. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he admitted.

“I know you weren’t, but you need to now. This place is dangerous.”

His eyes flicked away and Adrian knew he was listening for something, but Adrian didn’t hear anything.

He didn’t hear _anything_.

Nothing.

“Sypha,” he said suddenly and looked and listened carefully for any sign of her, though he already knew there was none. Her scent was close, still fresh because she had been standing with them only a moment ago. He immediately began to follow it, Trevor close on his heels.

They rounded the bend in the path, leaving the horses and wagon for the time being. She could not have gone far, but the sudden silence was unnatural – Adrian could hear a human heartbeat from a hundred feet away if he was listening for it – there was no possible way that he would not be able to pick up on Sypha’s location if she was near.

He followed her scent easily until it abruptly cut off, disappearing at a large boulder which flanked the path on one side and was surrounded by thick cedars and scrub brush. He ran his glove over the surface of the stone, finding it rough and quite hard beneath his touch. Something was odd, however, about the quality of this stone. It didn’t smell like anything, he realized.

No, that was wrong.

It didn’t smell like a stone should. It lacked the mineral odour he associated with rocks, and the small lichens growing on it should have their own musty, earthen quality, which was also lacking. Instead, Adrian found he scented magic. It was different than his own or Sypha’s, but it was still unpleasant and sharp, like breathing electricity.

Trevor came to stand beside him, observing the way Adrian was feeling along the surface of the boulder without any obvious success or purpose. “What the hell are you doing? We should be looking for Sypha, not admiring the local fucking scenery.”

“This rock isn’t right,” Adrian said, distracted. He tried to go around, but the brush was so dense on either side that he couldn’t get through, branches tangling in his hair and scratching at his face. Of course he could force his way through, but he wanted to investigate more carefully before he did that. Instead, he jumped atop the great stone, but before he could settle onto it he hit what felt like a solid wall. Surprised by this, he hopped into the air and put his hand out, feeling the surface in front of him as he rose.

His hand would not go through, even when he tested the invisible barrier with his considerable strength. His fingers tingled very slightly where they contacted it.

“Trevor, there is an invisible wall here,” he said, still trying to find an edge, a corner, something to indicate where the wall began or ended. There was nothing. No discernible feature marked the smooth surface, which curved slightly as he followed it upwards past the treeline.

He dropped lightly back to the ground beside Trevor. “I think it’s a spell,” he said finally, poking it once more.

“The witch. She must have made it to protect herself. Maybe she _is_ still alive,” Trevor mused aloud, reaching for the apparent magic wall.

His hand sank into the stone as if it weren’t there at all. Adrian stared at him, his hand disappearing into what appeared to be a large boulder. Trevor glanced at Adrian before experimentally pushing deeper, and in another moment he had been completely enveloped by the stone.

Adrian was left standing alone in the woods, all traces of both Trevor and Sypha gone. He could not hear, see or smell them at all.

“Trevor?” he called, half expecting the man to re-appear, but his voice fell only on the surrounding trees. “Sypha?”

He felt the exact place where Trevor had touched, thinking it could be a doorway that could only be accessed if one knew where to pass through, but his hand met only with impassable hardness. He withdrew, staring at the place that had just swallowed his companion with concern.

Surely, if they could pass through it he could as well? Or they would realize he was not with them, and return for him? Adrian looked back down the path in the direction they had come from, listening for the horses. He couldn’t leave them unguarded – they were as good as sitting ducks in this dark, monster-infested forest. He glared at the stone, worried that if he turned his back on it for more than a moment he would lose track of it. It sat, unchanged, and still impassable.

Irritated and growing worried, Adrian doubled back to where the horse and cart were and gathered the reins, leading the animals with him to the boulder. Satisfied that they were within view, he approached the barrier again and pressed both hands to it, shoving violently as hard as he could. His boots dug furrows into the earth, but his hands didn’t budge.

He tried to suppress a growl, knowing it would be useless to lose his head right now. He summoned magic, directing a small fireball towards the wall. He didn’t dare use anything too large, just in case it penetrated and harmed Trevor or Sypha on the other side. When the spell contacted the wall Adrian saw a shimmer pass in a reverberating wave along the surface of the barrier, leaving ripples in its wake, then his magic fizzled out and dissipated into nothing, the light from his fireball dimming quickly. He tried a larger one, and the same thing happened.

At a loss for what else to try, Adrian considered for a moment, before dissolving into mist in attempt to pass through that way. He rarely used this ability, as it had few practical applications in his day to day life, but once in awhile it was extremely handy in finding his way into or out of a difficult spot. He gathered himself in a sort of cloud and moved against the barrier. He felt himself collide with the smooth, impenetrable wall of magic, his shape flattening and thinning out as it stretched along the invisible surface in search of an opening or imperfection. There was nothing but the tingling of magic and Adrian resumed his normal shape, relinquishing the mist and kicking the base of the wall in frustration.

Adrian didn’t know what to try next, save teleportation. Unfortunately, teleporting to an unknown location was not a viable option and could result in his re-materializing inside of a solid object, which he didn’t anticipate he would enjoy. His final effort was spent trying to follow the perimeter of the barrier as far as he could. It led him in a very large circle, and upwards in the shape of a dome. Essentially, the spell was a massive bubble that encapsulated several acres of land. It was certainly enough to contain a home and outbuildings, a barn, or something else entirely. He strongly suspected that it was the work of the woman they were searching for, just as Trevor had suggested before disappearing inside.

Why he couldn’t pass through remained a mystery to him, but if the spell were designed to protect Hana from Dracula and the Horde, then perhaps it was Adrian’s nature which prevented him from passing. Sypha was magical, but she was human. Trevor was human. Adrian was not. At least, not entirely.

Resolute that they would come back for him soon, Adrian found a suitable perch where he could wait out his companions and keep an eye on their supplies.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Within roughly half an hour, there was an interruption in the continuity of the barrier. It rippled as it had when Adrian attacked it with fire, the surface shimmering visibly for a moment. He stood up on the branch he’d been sitting on, carefully watching as first Trevor, then Sypha emerged from the boulder, followed by a third individual. He stayed where he was, watching the three appear from within the magical barrier as though it weren’t there at all.

Trevor stepped through unharmed and at ease, which immediately made him relax. Trevor’s eyes sought him out quickly, evidently sensing his presence in the nearby tree. Their eyes met and Adrian’s questioning gaze was answered with a slight nod, which told him quickly that this was, in fact the person they were searching for, and that there was no immediate danger.

Sypha was absorbed in speaking with the tiny, older woman, who was shorter even than the Speaker mage. She must have been barely five feet tall, and had dark olive skin and long black hair laced through with strands of silver. Her hair was woven into a thick braid which hung over one thin shoulder. She was wearing a brown woolen skirt that went to her ankles and had an over sized, soft looking shawl draped across her shoulders and wrapped around her torso for warmth. It appeared to be made of very fine wool, and the colours were unusually bright and cheerful – yellow, orange, and a few streaks of vibrant blue. She wore a few different gold and silver amulets set with large semi-precious stones, some similar bracelets, and the end of her braid was tied with a thin bit of leather dyed yellow. There were feathers dangling from it, evidently donated by local ravens and owls. She had deep-set, shrewd eyes that were a brown so dark they appeared black, the corners creased with crow’s feet. Her hands were small and calloused, a few of her fingers twisted by rheumatism.

Even from in the tree, Adrian could smell the scent of herbs and flowers, and it immediately reminded him of his mother’s medical practice. She’d often used flowering plants to make various ointments and tonics for her patients. The scent was unexpectedly nostalgic, and immediately set Adrian at ease, absolving him of some of his suspicion at this unknown person who had so quickly garnered Sypha’s friendship. He supposed he actually owed a debt to this woman, as she was responsible for assisting Sypha and Trevor in creating the potion that cured him of poison, and also for giving Sypha the idea for how she could free him from the cage.

Trevor didn’t seem especially excited, but then, Adrian remembered that he hadn’t been all that thrilled about meeting her the first time around. The woman had one hand looped through Sypha’s elbow, and the pair were talking like old friends. Adrian noticed that she moved slowly, and had a limp on one side.

He watched for another moment before jumping gracefully from the tree, landing silently several paces away. He drew himself to his full height, fixing his face in a neutral expression, eyes studying the stranger carefully. Sypha and the woman stopped talking and both looked at him. Trevor simply stayed as he was.

Sypha beckoned him closer with her free hand. “Good, you waited for us; I hope you weren’t too worried. Sorry for disappearing on you, but Daisy wandered through Hana’s protection spell, and I followed her, then we got talking and I kind of lost track of time. It’s a good thing Trevor came and reminded me that you guys were waiting. Hana, this is Alucard. Alucard, meet Hana.”

Adrian found himself looking into the tiny woman’s kindly face, her sharp eyes reminding him of Trevor, save the colour. When she smiled, he saw that she was missing a couple of teeth and those that remained were worn and a bit stained, as though she drank a lot of tea. She inclined her head politely.

“I’ve been awaiting your arrival for some time, Alucard of Wallachia,” she said to him in a strong, smooth voice, her manner of speech indicating a good education, though her tone was stiffly cordial. “I offer my apologies that you are unable to cross onto my lands; the spell of protection here prevents any creature of darkness from passing. It is a necessary precaution in these times, as I am sure you understand. I will, however, make an exception for you. Your comrades have assured me that you pose no threat.”

She eyed him sharply with a sly tilt of her lips and lifted one of the amulets from around her neck, holding it out to him. “Wear this. It will allow you to pass through the perimeter of the spell. You can remove it once you are inside.”

“Thank you,” Adrian said, reaching a gloved hand to accept the offered talisman that dangled from Hana’s small, gnarled fingers. She drew back slightly when he got close to her, tossing the trinket to him. He caught it easily and peered at it with curiosity.

It was nothing ornate like her other jewelry, just a simple leather cord, knotted several times and sporting small fragments of what appeared to be bone or horn, fashioned into beads. The main pendant was a decently sized quartz, the white stone having been polished and pierced to allow the cord to pass through it. It was an odd looking thing, certainly not pretty, but Adrian felt a hum of magic from it when he took it into his hand, and smelled the unusual scent that was different from both his own, and Sypha’s magics. It smelled earthy to him, like moss, or damp.

He turned it around in his fingers before obediently slipping it over his head. He pulled his hair free of the cord and turned his eyes back to the small woman, who was watching him with that same sly smile, though she maintained some distance between them, as though she did not fully trust him. He wondered at her strange words. What exactly had Trevor and Sypha told her about him? He felt obliged to say something in thanks for her help before, although it was a bit awkward to bring it up.

“I am very grateful for the assistance you provided to us, Hana,” he said with a respectful inclination of his head in her direction. It was true. Her help had been integral in freeing him from his torturous prison, and he really was grateful. Deeply. “It’s good to meet you,” he added, shifting a bit awkwardly on his heels. She had called him a ‘creature of darkness,’ so he wasn’t certain exactly what she thought of him, and he still didn’t know what to make of her, either.

Trevor stepped into place at his side “As much as I’m getting a kick out of traipsing around this creepy forest in the dark, I wouldn’t mind getting back inside the magic protection bubble, if it’s all the same to the rest of you.”

Hana laughed at this, her face crinkling with genuine amusement. “You’re just as impatient as your father was, Trevor Belmont. And just as handsome. Quite a bit rougher around the edges though,” she said, making a point of eyeing him up and down critically with an unimpressed look on her face. At the mention of his father, Adrian saw the way Trevor stiffened and stood straighter, his fingers twitching like they wanted to curl around the reassuring sturdiness of a weapon, but he remained as he was, schooling his face to try and hide his reaction to her words.

“Sort of filthy, aren’t you,” she observed, letting go of Sypha’s arm to slowly step closer to Trevor, who dwarfed her, his broad shoulders draped in the thick fur of his cloak, his stance wide, making the fine-boned woman seem even smaller.

Hana was entirely unfazed by the stout warrior, inspecting him for a long moment before she finally wrinkled her nose and looked up at him. “With any luck, the stink of dead monster will come out with soap and hot water,” she poked him in the midsection, and Sypha snickered. Adrian noted the way Trevor’s nostrils flared and his jaw tightened as he forcibly swallowed whatever retort was about to come out of his mouth.

Hana shifted her attention to Adrian, appraising him more closely now that the initial introductions were out of the way. Her dark eyes surveyed him from head to toe, lingering on his sheathed sword, then flicking upwards, over the scar on his chest which peeked from the neckline of his shirt, his long hair, and the points of his ears, just visible through the blonde strands. “Hm,” she said flatly, “You’re not what I expected. How old are you, Alucard?”

Adrian frowned, finding himself mimicking Trevor as he stood a little taller beside the hunter, adopting a comparable stance. “I’m twenty,” he answered firmly. She had drawn a little closer to him than before, but she was still giving him a wide berth, evidently not yet convinced he was ‘safe.’ He saw that her attention flickered to the obvious bite mark on Sypha’s throat before it returned to him. She avoided looking him directly in the eyes, her focus trained instead on his mouth. Either she was looking for his fangs, or she was wary of being compelled. She certainly wasn’t acting frightened, just cautious. Adrian kept his mouth closed for the time being, hoping that their host would warm up to him when she saw for herself that he was not a threat. There would be no benefit to antagonizing this individual – Sypha was clearly very fond of her, and the list of people that they could call ‘allies’ was extremely short as it was.

“Just a child,” Hana said, more to herself than to him, turning from both he and Trevor and resuming her position beside Sypha, arm looped in the crook of her elbow. “Well, bring your beasts and come along, you’ll be tired and hungry.”

Adrian dutifully turned to grab the reins, and Trevor walked beside him, the pair hanging back a little from Hana and Sypha as they all passed through the protective spell and into the area beyond.

This time when Adrian came into contact with the edge of the barrier, he was able to cross unimpeded, the whole thing rippling brightly as his body touched it, sending rings of magic reverberating outward. He felt an electric tingle where he moved through, which dissipated as soon as he had crossed. The horses and carriage were able to enter with no trouble, and once they had cleared it Adrian turned around to see what it looked like from inside. There was no visible indication that they were cut off from the world beyond. He could hear, see and smell everything with perfect clarity, unlike when he had been on the outside of the magical wall. That was a handy trick, and he expected that Sypha was going to be picking that spell up as soon as she could. It was rather comforting to know that there was a spell powerful enough to shield his lovers from any ‘creature of darkness,’ even if that included him.

He fixed his eyes on the trail ahead of him, falling into step beside Trevor several paces behind the women. Adrian could hear their conversation – Sypha was telling Hana stories of their journey in the last several months, and a few things about their most recent confrontations, and the state of the outside world. Hana commented sparsely, but mostly she was listening, looking back now and again at Adrian and Trevor.

The hunter had an odd look on his face. Adrian touched his shoulder and Trevor glanced at him.

“She knew your father?”

Trevor’s expression shifted, hardening a little. “Guess so,” he muttered, shoulders hunching slightly. Adrian studied him as they plodded along slowly. He knew Trevor didn’t like to bring up memories of his family, which he could understand, given how they had died.

“Hana is, she’s…”

“Blunt?” Trevor supplied helpfully with a mild scowl. “Yeah I guess I forgot to mention that. She was like that last time too, although I have hardly talked to her. Sypha mostly did all the talking before, and I just sat there. I didn’t even realize she knew my family that well. I thought she just knew the Belmonts in general.”

“She doesn’t seem to trust me very much,” Adrian noted, and Trevor gave him a shrug.

“Don’t take it personally, I didn’t trust you very much either at first, remember?”

Adrian couldn’t help a smile at that, recalling how incredibly suspicious, snarky, and standoffish Trevor had been for the first month or so of their travels. He had refused to sleep when Adrian was around, and had generally kept his hackles up, only letting his guard down slowly as time proved that Adrian was neither his enemy, nor planning to turn him into a snack. It was a good thing that he’d finally warmed up to the dhampir, who’d become thoroughly sick of the hunter’s snide comments and attempts to bait him into arguments or all-out fights.

Once, Trevor had received a formidable set of slashes from a monster’s talons, and Adrian had killed the beast, protected him from further injury, then stitched and bandaged the wound for him when the fight was over. A tentative thread of trust formed between them after that, and slowly strengthened over time as he realized that Adrian was not a threat to him, and in fact, was quite a loyal and brave ally.

It took a bit longer for Adrian to trust Trevor in return. Belmonts were known for their volatility and deadliness towards vampires. He liked to believe he was less obnoxious about it, but he didn’t feel comfortable even closing his eyes around the man for a good while in the beginning, much less turning his back on him or letting his guard down. Adrian chose to rest perched high in trees or with his back to some secure wall or boulder, just in case the testy heir to the Belmont name decided he got sick of having a dhampir around. Slowly, Adrian had come to accept that Trevor meant him no harm, and the intensity of their bickering and posturing eased as each of them relaxed around the other. Sypha was perhaps the one who benefited most from this, as she’d been stuck as mediator more often than not and her patience had been wearing thin.

He tipped his head in a nod. “I suppose that’s true,” he admitted, regarding the hunter fondly. “We’ve come rather a long way since the times you slept sitting up with a dagger in your hand,” he grinned when Trevor met his eyes, making sure to show his teeth. “As if that would have protected you,” he added cockily, their shoulder’s brushing companionably as they followed the path.

“I don’t care how fast you are, you could never sneak up on me. I’d sense you coming and that dagger would be in your ribs before you could fucking blink,” he retorted, poking Adrian as if to indicate where he’d stab if he got the chance.

Adrian wanted to lean against Trevor and give him a kiss, but he refrained in light of their present company. Homosexuality was absolutely not socially acceptable in the present era, at least not in human society. Trevor’s relaxed attitude about sexuality in general was very unusual; most men would never behave as he did, even if they liked other men. It was both taboo and punishable by death if the church got wind of it. Perhaps that was the root of it; Trevor hated the church, so if they said something was wrong, he said ‘ _fuck you_ ’ and did as he pleased. Adrian hadn’t actually discussed that with him before.

He settled for simply walking close to his partner, the climbing, twisting path growing gradually wider as they came into view of a small eclectic cottage and a number of other little sheds and buildings, including a barn. Adrian smelled animals and herbs and all manner of unusual things. Wax, meat, spices, rot. There was a great deal of clutter, dried bundles of flowers and herbs hanging from the cottage porch, small animals such as rabbits and chickens penned or cooped as was appropriate, and Daisy was in a small paddock, peering sideways between the boards when she saw their arrival. She bleated loudly and Adrian felt a small measure of satisfaction that he didn’t have to deal with the irritating creature any longer.

Overall, the place was messy, but the homey atmosphere and sense of safety were predominant, and it was an inviting space, despite the excess of scraggly plants and drying animal parts everywhere. One structure was strung with small carcasses, most of them picked nearly clean and the white bones gleaming in the dark. Another shed was laden entirely with bundled plants and a few sacks of grain were on shelves beneath them. Another contained hides and pelts being dried or stretched, although many appeared to have been forgotten and left to rot.

The house itself was made of aged logs, a two story affair with a burnt wood roof and a stone chimney. A small addition came off of one side, the wall made of greying cedar shakes. Warm firelight filtered through the glass panes on the main floor of the home, which was surrounded on three sides by a large overhanging porch. There was chopped firewood and a few worn chairs arranged upon it, though one side sagged alarmingly and had obviously seen better days.

Adrian got a sense of peace from this place, a feeling which he hadn’t experienced from a home or town since before his mother was killed. He was struck once more by an odd nostalgia at the scent of herbs and florals, although the similarities ended there; his mother had been an exceedingly tidy and orderly individual who had not tolerated clutter of any kind. Looking around, it was plainly obvious that Hana mostly fended for herself, and that she was struggling to maintain her homestead. Her animals were thin, her stores looked depleted, and her home needed some repairs which she was clearly unable to perform on her own.

He smelled magic strongly all over the space, but especially from the house itself, where numerous sigils and runes were carved or painted on the door, around the windows, and even on the floorboards of the porch. The entire place felt magical, and Adrian had to wonder if she had built her home here intentionally, if perhaps the land itself was laden with magical energy.

As they came into the yard and passed a truly massive garden, the gnarled woman turned and faced the three of them once more. “You can stay in the barn while you are here; there is dry hay in the loft, and space for your horses as well. I am unfortunately quite low on provisions, but I will offer you what I can.”

Sypha looked around, obviously already familiar with the space from their previous visit. “Hana, with the village gone, what will you do? Are you going to stay here alone?”

The olive-skinned face crinkled with a smile. “I’ll be fine, Sypha. People will come and rebuild the town after _that_ is gone,” she said with certainty, pointing towards the north, well past the house. Adrian looked in that direction and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

From this vantage point – higher ground, nearby trees cleared away – he could see well into the distance, where the earth sloped steeply upwards and the eerie outlines of turrets and spires were silhouetted against the darkened sky and distant mountains, rising well above the tallest trees. He wasn’t sure how far it was, or if the humans could actually see more than a deep spot of blackness on the horizon, but Adrian could see it quite well by the light of the skinny moon, and his chest _ached_ at the sight.

The castle.

His hand went to his heart unconsciously and he strode in that direction, hopping thoughtlessly to the roof of the house so he could see more clearly. He completely ignored Trevor and Sypha, who called after him. He forgot them, in fact, caught up by the sight of the castle, which, to him, was painful and beautiful together, especially drenched in moonlight and darkness as it was. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

They had been chasing it for months, never drawing close enough to gain entry before it disappeared on them, but this time he was confident that it would stay exactly where it was. He thought he could actually _feel_ his father’s presence there, heavy and suffocating and melancholy, like choking. Miserable. Lonely. _Furious_.

“Father,” Adrian whispered through his teeth, the sound of his voice swallowed up by the wind and the cold.

He didn’t know what he felt in that moment. He was seized by an urge to leave everything else behind and just go to it, but at the same time he was paralyzed by foreboding and the certainty that only tragedy awaited him there. He stood on the roof for an undetermined period of time, just staring out at his home.

He was numb again, as he had been much of the day.

It was there, right there in front of him, yet still well out of reach.

Eventually Adrian became aware of Sypha beside him on the roof. She had used bursts of air to push herself upwards, lighting on the slanted surface beside him, her balance tentative. She put a hand on his arm and her skin felt like fire. It was enough to pull him out of his head. He blinked at her and quickly wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling, as she was clearly not as comfortable on the peak of the roof as he was. She was soft and hot against him and he closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her and breathing her snowy scent, unable to summon any words.

“I can’t see it very well,” she said after a couple of minutes, glancing at him, though he was already staring towards the castle once more. “It just looks black.”

He still could not tear his eyes from it, even though he struggled to make out more than the outline at this distance. His arm tightened around her waist.

“It’s beautiful,” he said wistfully. Finally, he looked away from the familiar shape, into Sypha’s blue eyes and windburned cheeks. The breeze tousled her curls and her nose ran with the cold on the exposed roof.

“Adrian, come down,” she said to him. “Give Hana a chance to get a bit more comfortable with you. She’s giving us somewhere safe and warm to stay, and we can help her in return.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced without protest. It hadn’t been his intention to withdraw, he’d simply been overcome at the sight of his home after so long. “I’ll help however I can.”

He shifted, turning to look over the yard, and the area they’d come from. From the roof, he could see the charred remains of the town, the church rising black and lifeless above the rest of the rubble. He forcibly looked away from that, focusing instead on Hana’s property.

Trevor had the horses unhooked from their wagon, and was leading them into the barn, which had a thatch roof and weathered log walls that needed to be re-chinked. There was a fenced area behind it where the animals could graze.

Hana was standing in the lawn where she’d been several minutes earlier, dark eyes fixed intently on Adrian, watching his every move. It made him uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny, although he did partly understand the woman’s perspective. She only knew him as far as Trevor and Sypha had explained, which couldn’t have been much. She had said she’d been waiting for him for some time; it seemed a very unusual thing to say. The best course of action would be to simply have a conversation with her, and get everyone on the same page. Clearly, they were going to be quite honest with this woman, as she had knowledge of magic and the supernatural, and was the only person who had survived his father’s deadly inferno. She had helped them before, for no other reason than to be kind, and she was now offering a place to rest and prepare for the last part of their journey.

Resolute, Adrian gathered Sypha against him and jumped from the roof, much to her displeasure. He felt her nails digging into his shoulder and she screeched in his ear, twisting out of his arms as soon as they were on the ground.

“Don’t _do_ that!” she scolded once her feet were securely on the ground. Adrian grinned and was momentarily taken by the sense of pleasure that he was sure Trevor experienced when he made either of them blush or fume. No wonder he got such a kick out of it, her cheeks flushed beautifully when she was mad and her eyes glittered threateningly.

“Sorry Sypha,” he said in as apologetic a tone as he could manage, though she looked unconvinced.

Hana watched this familiar exchange with the same shrewdness she had been taking in everything else. When Trevor returned from the barn she looked between her three guests as if deliberating the merit of inviting them into her home. Her eyes came to rest once more on Adrian, and he knew she was uncomfortable with his presence, despite hiding it well.

An awkward air settled between them, but Trevor broke the silence with the gurgling of his stomach, which chose that opportune moment to make itself known. He put a hand over his middle. “You said something about food? It’s been a long day and I’m fucking starving.”

“Trevor!” Sypha admonished, swatting him. “Don’t be rude.”

Hana waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry dear, it’s clear he doesn’t have any manners to speak of. I would be happy to offer you a meal, but I haven’t any meat at the moment. Normally, there is a lovely young man from the village who traps in the area, and he brings me meat to trade from time to time, but unfortunately he’s dead, along with the rest of them,” she sighed for emphasis. “Perhaps the three of you could help me with a few things which I cannot do myself? I have ale and bread, and I can feed your horses. And there will be milk, now that I have a _goat_ once more,” she directed this last part at Trevor, staring him down accusingly.

He snorted at her comment. “Hey, I needed it more than you did, lady.”

She smirked, crossing her skinny arms. “Of course you did. If you had asked, I would have given her to you. You didn’t need to steal her from me like a common thief. And me, a helpless old woman, unable to defend myself.”

Trevor took a step forward, jabbing an accusing finger at the dark-haired woman. “That’s a load of rot, you’re not as helpless as you look. You’re the only person who survived fucking _Dracula_ coming to town and burning everything to shit. I’m not an idiot.”

“Neither am I,” she retorted, ignoring his finger stabbing the air in front of her. “It isn’t by accident that you came here the first time, or now. You all have a very important role to play in the future of Wallachia.”

Trevor huffed. “We fucking _know_ that already. Why the hell else would we be out here trying to get ourselves killed? For fun? Jesus, I can think of about a thousand more fun things I could be doing with my time, and none of them involve coming here,” he crossed his arms, glowering down at Hana.

She glowered right back. “Killing Dracula is not enough to stop the destruction of Wallachia, Trevor Belmont. Doing so will only delay the inevitable. I can help you, but you must help me in return. I am at the mercy of the elements in this forest, and since the castle has come I cannot safely leave the spell of protection, as the land is overrun with monsters. Assist me, and I will tell you everything I know, and I will offer you my hospitality while you are here.”

“Oh, so you just want us to do a bunch of stupid-” Adrian put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, gripping him tightly and stopping him before he got into an all-out argument with the feisty little woman. Trevor yanked himself free and glared daggers at the dhampir, his temper thoroughly roused. Adrian knew he was tired and hungry, but such an outburst was uncalled for.

“Trevor, shut up,” Adrian said, turning back to Hana. “I’m sorry, he’s… ornery.”

“Oh, I can see that,” she snapped and Adrian fought the urge to snarl at both of them. At this point he was beginning to wonder if this lady wasn’t a Belmont herself. It would explain the attitude.

“How about we go inside and have something to eat and drink?” Sypha interjected, effectively cutting off anymore bickering. “It really has been a long day of traveling and we are tired and hungry. I think everyone will be much more pleasant after something to eat,” she glared at Trevor as she said this, daring him to speak again.

He swallowed his next retort obediently, much to Adrian’s amusement.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are moving along. This chapter is somewhat transitional, but I certainly hope I effectively communicated the level of decimation left in Dracula's wake, and Adrian's reaction to seeing it firsthand. 
> 
> Oh my, a new character... do you like Hana? I modeled her loosely after an eclectic friend of mine who has just WAY too much stuff. 
> 
> I would greatly appreciate feedback on this work. It is so important to hear what you think and it is extremely helpful in moving forward with future chapters! What do you like, what do you dislike? Let me know how this chapter sat with you.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and supporting this work! More soon!


	29. Part Twenty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter - I'm on a roll! 
> 
> I hope you like this one!

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Twenty-Nine**

Thankfully, after the borderline argument that took place in Hana’s yard, everyone calmed down and became a little more civil to one another. Trevor grudgingly apologized for his rudeness – possibly due in part to Sypha manifesting ice around his testicles – and Hana invited them all into her home. As they approached the door, she paused and spoke under her breath, and there was a flash and shimmer as she removed some kind of protective spell from the entrance. When she finished, she pulled the worn wooden door open – hinges creaking loudly – and strode inside, removing her footwear and gesturing that they all do the same.

Adrian slid his feet from his boots, placing them neatly beside Sypha’s. Trevor kicked his off as was customary, carelessly leaving them in a muddy heap. He removed his white fur cloak, hanging it on a peg near the door with Sypha’s outer robe. Adrian fingered the gold embroidery on the edge of his coat and finally shrugged it from his shoulders, hanging it beside the others.

If the yard was cluttered, the house itself was downright packed to the rafters with every manner of stone, feather, bone, antler, herb and carving available. Colourful rugs overlapped the floors, feeling pleasant underfoot. Curtains made of beads hung in the doorways, and candles burned all over, in addition to the merry fire which crackled away on the hearth. The scent of human perspiration and dust was overshadowed by the herbal, floral bouquet, since dried flowers and plants were bundled and hung from the bare rafters, many tied with leather and decorated with bird feathers or other bits of this and that. The home was essentially one large room, with the kitchen being confined to the addition, and the sleeping area up in the loft. Adrian didn’t think it saw much use, as Hana obviously would struggle to climb the vertical ladder, and he suspected instead that she slept on the small sofa stuffed with feathers and upholstered in bright blue and green fabric. A glance upwards revealed that the loft was so full that it would be difficult to get up there at all, had she wanted to.

To one side of the room was a small, overburdened table which appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be an altar or magical shrine, and many coloured beeswax candles flickered in small glass holders upon it. Every part of the home that wasn’t full of miscellaneous junk was packed with books. Adrian had rarely seen so many books in one place outside of the Hold or the castle, and as he ran his eyes over the spines he quickly discovered that they were almost entirely advanced and obscure magical texts, and books about herbalism, botany, and horticulture. There were several about stones and gems as well, of which there were many sprinkled throughout the shelves and pigeonholes built into the walls, winking at him in the glow of candle and firelight. The rest of the books resembled those found in the Hold – texts about supernatural phenomena and beings. Adrian’s brows raised as he noticed these titles interspersed with the others texts.

Despite the overwhelming array of _stuff_ , the home was actually very welcoming. The worn furniture was comfortable and nicely made. There was a large table which took up one side of the room, with chairs scattered around it. Each chair was adorned with a stuffed cushion, and the table itself was mostly clear, save a teacup and a few papers and quills, little pots of ink, and a beaded runner in the center with a fresh arrangement of flowers atop it. A pair of oil lanterns dangled from the ceiling here, providing good light to read and write by.

On the other side of the room was the couch and a pair of armchairs, one rocking, one winged with a matching ottoman. A small, well-carved side table perched between the rocker and the sofa, and a matching coffee table laden with books and various other articles sat in front of it. The hearth was beautifully carved stone, a large cast iron pot for cooking suspended on a swing-arm beside it.

Hana strode inside and Sypha followed her, eyes jumping from one thing to the next. “It’s so amazing in here,” she said with a smile, her eyes lingering on the many texts that threatened to burst the shelves. “I’m glad we came back, and I’m glad you’re okay. When we passed through the village I was really worried what we would find here.”

Hana gestured to the couch and chairs, urging them to sit. She gave Sypha a genuine smile, and it was very clear that she liked the mage a lot by the warmth that came into her face. “I told you last time you were here that I had ways to protect myself from the dangers that were coming. Would you like some tea or ale?”

Sypha nodded. “Tea please, I’m so chilled,” she emphasized this by rubbing her arms to regain some warmth, seeking out the rocking chair, which was closest to the fire. She sank gratefully onto the lumpy cushion, holding her hands towards the hearth to help defrost them.

“And you?” Hana glanced to Trevor.

“Ale,” he said gruffly, easing himself into the wing chair. He pulled about ten weapons off of his person before he sat down – those were just the ones that impeded sitting in the chair. He was still wearing numerous daggers and the like. He laid the whips and swords on the coffee table, the metal clinking as the pile grew. Hana eyed them, one narrow black brow raised in amusement before she glanced at Adrian, catching his eyes for a brief moment before breaking the contact and looking just a bit lower.

“I don’t suppose you will accept any food or drink,” she stated a little crisply, and Adrian sighed at the assumption.

“Tea would be wonderful,” he said politely. He was standing in the doorway to the large room, just inside the beaded curtain. He debated how best he could gain the woman’s trust; her discomfort in his presence was making things more awkward than they needed to be. He took a few steps deeper into the room, deliberately unbuckling his sword belt and removing it, leaving the long blade sheathed and leaning against the wall.

She tracked his movements a touch warily, but stood fast. He saw a tiny measure of surprise on her face at his words, though she hid it well. Adrian approached her and offered her a small, hopefully disarming smile, doing his best not to allow his fangs to show too prominently. “Would you like some assistance in the kitchen?”

He was aware of Sypha and Trevor watching their interaction. The tiny woman deliberated momentarily before nodding curtly. “Yes, thank you. I would appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he answered her, ducking his head to avoid knocking it on the low door frame as he passed behind her into the small kitchen.

The kitchen was really more of a pantry, as the cooking all took place at the hearth in the main room. There were cupboards filled with a mismatched selection of bowls, mugs, teapots and the like, and the rest of the storage space was taken up by dry goods. A long counter top and sink were obviously used for the preparation of both foodstuffs and herbal medicines. The room was colder than the rest of the house – better suited to food storage. It had no windows – light came from the main room and a single lantern that rested on the well-used wooden surface of the counter. Adrian could smell spices and ale in addition to the general scent that permeated every part of the home.

Hana moved slowly but familiarly into the space. She began climb onto a footstool so she could reach the tea leaves, but Adrian quickly stepped in beside her. “Just tell me what you need and I can get it for you,” he offered, courteous.

His position placed her between his body and the counter and he saw the way her fingers tightened against the wood and she inched backwards on the stool, away from him. He had been almost exclusively with Trevor and Sypha for so long he’d nearly forgotten that many people were naturally wary of him.

Hana did not seem to be an easily frightened person. She resonated strength despite her slight frame, however she didn’t really _know_ him yet. It was possible she was only trying to be cautious, but it mixed oddly with her mannerisms and did not seem to fit her very well.

She shifted further back and the stool wobbled beneath her. Adrian reached out to steady her by grasping her arm at the elbow so she wouldn’t fall. She grew rigid in his hold, her heartbeat suddenly kicking up, although she didn’t jerk away. She simply stilled, frozen and motionless. Adrian released her arm and moved a few paces away from her, a bit stung that she was so wary of him when he’d done nothing at all to earn such treatment.

She recovered her composure quickly. Stepping down from the stool and moving out of the way, she pointed to the shelf she wanted, where there were several corked clay jars. “That one is the tea, and there are the cups,” she indicated the next shelf down with one crooked finger.

Adrian could easily reach without assistance. He retrieved the tea and mugs, setting them on the counter. One of them was larger than the others. This he took to the ale cask and filled for Trevor, anticipating that the hunter would relax a great deal simply having the mug in his hand. He set it on the counter.

Hana had retrieved a large teapot and was fumbling with the jar of leaves so she could put some into it. Her arthritic fingers struggled with the lid. Adrian reached for it, his bare hand outstretched in a clear gesture that she should hand it to him.

She studied his hand for a moment, the air between them heavy with the unspoken tension that had yet to be resolved. Tentatively, she placed the jar into his hand.

“Hana,” he said gently, easily removing the cork from the jar and handing it back to her. He laid his hands on the wooden surface of the counter and tried to catch her eyes, but she was looking at what she was doing, focusing pointedly. “I truly mean you no harm,” he told her, hoping that it would help her to relax.

The woman re-corked the jar and pushed it towards him. He took it in one hand and placed it back on the shelf. When he turned back from his task she was looking at him, her small black eyes studying him with a mixture of curiosity and reservation. Her mouth was closed, her thin lips lined with fine wrinkles. She frowned slightly, stepping a few inches closer to him. One hand clutched at one of her amulets, a large pendant on a silver chain. The stone was wide and flat, and dark black, like jet or onyx. She stroked her twisted thumb over it in a movement that seemed habitual, as though she had done so many times.

“I know; I am making every effort to remember that. I have never met anyone who was both pure of heart and a being of darkness before; it’s an unusual combination. I can feel them, you know. The night creatures, the beings of chaos and evil. I’ve always been able to feel peculiar things, the breath of the earth, the places where magic is strongest. I understand that you aren’t like… _him_ , but you have the same magic, you feel much the same to me. It’s unnerving.”

Her fingers curled around the amulet, gripping it so tightly that the edge of the metal was digging into her skin slightly. “When he burned everything it… it _hurt_. It’s not easy to forget.”

A tremble went through her and in that moment she looked as though the weight and pain of all those who had died in the nearby village was pressing down on her. It passed quickly.

Adrian was surprised by her. She really _was_ an unusual woman – he had known that already – but her words only confirmed that she was more than eclectic. He didn’t know how best to describe her, although ‘witch’ seemed fairly accurate, yet still not quite right. Her strange declaration only seemed to spark more questions in him, and he wanted to ask all of them, but it wasn’t the time.

“I am _nothing_ like my father,” he said sternly, recalling the destruction he’d witnessed earlier in the day. He was disgusted that such abhorrence was perpetrated by his own blood.

Her face was cast in shadows by the lantern on the counter just behind her, making the streaks of grey in her hair shimmer like silver. Her grip eased on the black amulet, slowly lowering. “No,” she said, her eyes finally meeting his. For the first time, she did not look away from him. “You’re not the same. I can see that plainly, if I look. But I _do_ have to look. Otherwise, you feel like chaos and darkness to me. You aren’t as different from your father as you think you are, Alucard. You’re cut from the same cloth.”

Adrian grew stiff and uncomfortable beneath the oddly piercing scrutiny of her dark stare and heavy words. He frowned, disliking the statements she was making about him when she had barely known him a full hour.

She seemed to understand this, and to have grown somewhat bolder with him, and less nervous of his proximity. She smiled, the intensity softening and the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling. She carefully took one of his hands in hers. Her skin was rough and warm, the tiny bones in her fingers and palm easily discernible where she gripped him. She was as fragile as a bird, but radiated strength from somewhere deeper.

“You look as though you’ve swallowed something inedible. Perhaps Sypha is right, that a hot tea and a bit of rest will help settle all of you in. Let’s begin with that, and you can give the young Belmont his ale before he comes in here looking for it. Insufferable lot, those Belmonts, but they have honest hearts.”

Adrian found himself smiling back at her. “I can’t speak to the rest of them, but Trevor certainly fits the bill,” he said with a measure of affection.

She released his hand, motioning to the water pitcher which sat atop the counter. “The rest of them were much the same, at least the ones I knew. It’s a terrible shame what happened to that family. The church is often blinded to reason, especially when the people demand blood. In times of peace they quickly forget who protected them from the dangers of the night, and look for someone to blame for the mundane and perfectly explainable tragedies that occur in everyday life.”

Adrian had mixed feelings about the people who glorified the slaughter of his kind, but he kept it to himself, curious to know more about Trevor’s deceased family, if only to gain a better understanding of Trevor himself. “Did you know them well?” he asked, taking the water pitcher in one hand and filling an iron kettle that Hana placed in front of him.

“I did,” Hana responded. “I was good friends with Lucia. That would be Trevor’s mother. She was a fine marksman, or woman, I should say. She didn’t hunt hell creatures, however she put more meat on the table than any of the others. Somebody had to be practical, since the rest were so preoccupied with their whips and consecrated weapons that they often overlooked the more necessary responsibilities of daily life in favour of gallivanting around the countryside in search of monsters and trouble. Lucia was always thinking ahead. She had to, with five children to care for.”

“ _Five?_ ”

“Oh yes. Four sons and one daughter. She used to bring the older ones over here, before the last two were born. Then it got to be too much to bring them, and she left them with the nursemaid and came alone, or I would visit her at the Estate. I would supply her with healing herbs and salves for their wounds. Someone was always injured, sliced by a weapon in training, or wounded by a beast they were hunting. I do believe I met young Trevor a few times, but I hardly remember much about it. Now, however, it’s plain to see he’s a Belmont. He’s the spitting image of his father, if a bit taller and obviously lacking the noble upbringing. I suppose that’s to be expected, considering the rest of them are dead. He seems resourceful, at any rate. It’s not likely he’d have survived this long if her weren’t. Belmonts are not exactly loved in Wallachia, as I’m sure you are aware. Bring that kettle for the tea,” she instructed, exiting the small room and making the wooden beads of the curtain in the doorway swish and click against one another. Adrian followed her back into the warm main room, kettle in one hand, and Trevor’s ale mug in the other.

Sypha had settled in comfortably, her expression relaxed her head leaning back against the rocking chair’s cushion, one of Hana’s books in her hands. She rocked slowly back and forth, meeting Adrian’s eyes over the edge of the text when he emerged from the kitchen. Trevor was similarly positioned in the other chair, his feet propped near the fire on the ottoman.

Adrian set the mug of ale in his waiting hands. Trevor breathed in the sour, unpleasant odour as though it were something wonderful, then he put his lips to the rim of the mug and took a deep draw, swallowing down half the contents of the cup in one go. Adrian watched his Adam’s apple bob as his throat worked.

“Fuck. That’s really good ale,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, then wiping his hand on his pants. He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, evidently savouring the brew. When he opened them he trained them on Hana, who was watching him from beside the hearth “You make this yourself?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she answered him. “It’s my own recipe. Ale is one of the few things I have a lot of, as the batch always produces more than I can drink on my own. Usually I trade the extra for meat or other supplies. It will be awhile before I can do so again.”

Sypha perked up in her chair. “You shouldn’t have told him that, he’ll drink you dry,” she cautioned with a mischievous tilt of her lips, pointedly avoiding Trevor’s glare in her direction.

Hana laughed, the sound scratchy and low. “He’ll work for it,” she assured.

A few minutes later, Adrian, Sypha, and Hana were all holding hot cups of tea, which Adrian had discovered did indeed taste a little like dirt, although he said nothing, because he didn’t want to be rude. Trevor had finished his ale and he was looking longingly towards the kitchen in clear hope that he could manage to secure another cup.

Adrian sat on the floor with his back to the hearth, giving Hana the small couch since it was her home. She had offered for him to sit there, but he declined, insisting he was comfortable. The heat at his back was warming him through, and along with the tea he felt quite content. He blinked slowly, closing his eyes for a moment and simply appreciating being inside a warm home, and especially the very unusual circumstance of safety. He did not need to be so alert here, as enemies could not enter the perimeter of the protection spell.

So, about the food,” Trevor said after a moment of silence wherein nobody did more than sip their tea. He leaned forward in his chair, removing his feet from the ottoman, cup cradled in both hands. “And maybe more of this?” he added, gesturing with the mug.

“Yes, yes, Belmont. If you ask _politely_ , you may have another cup,” she answered him as though he were a child of less than ten, rather than a man of twenty-four.

Trevor looked mildly insulted, but Adrian and Sypha glanced at one another and exchanged furtive smirks, knowing that any pride he had would quickly be sacrificed to get what he wanted. “Fine. _Please_ , can I have another fucking ale,” the hunter grated out.

Hana took her time responding, taking a long, measured sip of her tea and setting the cup carefully – slowly – on a rare unoccupied spot on the coffee table before she turned to him as though considering his request. “I suppose. Alucard, would you mind getting the young Belmont another ale? My old bones are sore and I’ve only just sat down.”

“Alright,” Adrian agreed, although he wondered at being asked to get things for this woman in her own home. She clearly enjoyed it, her lips tilted in a self-satisfied expression as she watched him rise gracefully and collect Trevor’s cup.

Adrian retrieved the ale, which Trevor greedily drank back with little preamble. His cheeks were flushing, and it was clear that he had relaxed a great deal, his body heavy in the chair, his expression calm. It was good to see Trevor like that – he so rarely let his guard down. Even occupied, drunk, or asleep, the man was always ready to defend himself from harm. His seemingly lackadaisical manner could shift in an instant to the focused and deadly fighter Adrian knew him to be.

The same went for Sypha, although there wasn’t as much of an obvious difference. Adrian could see it, however. It was something in her eyes, in the way she sank into the chair with abandon and immersed herself in Hana’s home as though she belonged there. She looked almost catlike, reclined into the cushion of the rocker, eyes half-lidded and glinting in the firelight. Her black arm sleeves contrasted her white skin, the bare shoulders peeking slightly from the sides of her woolen blue robe, her wrists appearing fine and delicate wrapped in the black cloth.

Adrian hoped that soon this scene could be repeated in his own home, just the three of them. He wanted them there with him, stretched out and as relaxed as they were now before one of the monolithic hearths. Trevor’s sun-browned skin would be a welcome temptation, especially if it were contrasted by Sypha’s pale cream. He wanted both of them on the great white bearskin which decorated one of the rooms he favoured; they would be perfect surrounded by the long black claws of the creature’s stuffed, outstretched paws, each of them equally dangerous and beautiful.

Adrian was so distracted by his musings that he missed part of the conversation taking place around him. He blinked, realizing he was being spoken to.

“Alucard?” Sypha repeated. He wasn’t used to her calling him that anymore. He remembered the day he’d told Trevor and Sypha to call him by his given name – it seemed like it was ages ago, when in fact it was only roughly a month past. So much had transpired in that short span of time. He certainly never could have guessed how drastically things would change.

“Sorry, Sypha, I was thinking. What is it?” he asked, turning his eyes on her.

Sypha smiled knowingly. She’d caught him daydreaming often enough to know when he was doing it.

“It’s alright. We were discussing dinner.”

“Oh. Anything is fine,” he said taking a sip of his forgotten tea, which was starting to cool down. “I could help,” he added, since he already knew Hana would accept if he offered, and suspected she would ask if he didn’t.

“No, that’s alright, sweetheart. Why don’t you take this comfortable chair, and I’ll help Hana with the meal,” Sypha pushed herself out of the chair. She was thoroughly warmed up now, and the tea and time sitting down had restored her bubbly energy.

Adrian lowered himself into the seat. It was softer than anything he’d sat on for months. It rocked pleasantly when he twitched one leg to get himself going, his arms sliding comfortably over the padded armrests. He closed his eyes, breathing in the strange mix of Sypha’s scent, the fireplace, and the oddly familiar blend of plants and medicinal reagents from around the room. Wood, wool, furs, bone. Ale. Tea.

Before he knew it, Adrian was slipping into a light nap. The heat worked deep into him, and the nearby sounds of Trevor breathing and Sypha chattering amicably with Hana permeated his senses.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Dinner was a simple affair of vegetable stew and bread, though there was no butter. Hana offered each of them a bowl, pausing in front of Adrian, who was still sleepily occupying the rocking chair, blonde hair fanned loosely around his shoulders.

She was getting used to his presence, as evidenced by her body language. She didn’t give him such a wide berth any longer, which went a long way to making him feel more welcome.

“Do you like stew?” she asked him, phrasing it more tactfully than he expected, since what she was really asking was whether he ate human food, or if the tea was the extent of his foray into such things.

“I do,” he said with a soft smile, accepting the bowl and a spoon, along with a generous piece of bread.

They ate at the dining table, the meal interspersed with conversation about the goings-on in the last several weeks.

Hana explained that Dracula’s castle had appeared around three weeks past. At first nothing had happened, save the foreboding black spot on the horizon looming threateningly. Then beasts began to appear in the forest, killing livestock and raiding the homes in the area. The attacks were small, but they were targeted, and each time the bodies of the dead were collected and taken along when the beasts departed.

“That went on for the first week,” Hana said, eyeing the way Trevor was attacking his meal with the bread, scooping up mouthfuls and chewing loudly. Her expression read thinly veiled disgust mixed with satisfaction at his enjoyment.

He paused only to drain his cup – his third by now – then he returned to his bowl. It was empty only minutes after they all gathered.

Hana nodded to the hunter slightly, who quickly took his cup into the kitchen to find the ale cask. She returned her attention to Sypha and Adrian. “There were a couple of nights where nothing happened, but everyone was frightened, as you would expect. We’ve all heard what’s transpired around Wallachia in recent months. I knew Dracula would come. I dreamed of his fire, and I knew it could not be avoided, but I did not know exactly when it would happen. I can use protective magic – that is my strength – but there was nothing I could do in the face of such an enemy. The circle around my home is the largest I can create and maintain, and I needed to be here to reinforce it daily. The local people knew me as a healer, or an herbalist. A sparse few were cognizant of some of my others aptitudes, but I don’t talk about it with most of them, for obvious reasons.”

“They would brand you a witch, and probably show up with pitchforks and torches,” Trevor said, sinking back into his chair with his cup. Adrian could smell the alcohol on his breath when he exhaled, and he knew Trevor was drunk, or well on his way. He bit into a piece of bread he’d brought with him from the kitchen, paying no attention to the effect his obtuse table habits were having on their host.

“They wouldn’t be wrong to call me that,” Hana answered. “Earlier, I was explaining to Alucard that I have always been able to sense things which go undetected by most people. I can use magic, although I am limited in that. Primarily, I am gifted with perception. I see and feel more than most. Sometimes it is referred to as ‘seeing auras,’ although that conjures and image of a colourful emanation hovering around someone, which is not very accurate to what I experience. It’s more like an extra sense that other people lack. When I meet someone, I see them, hear their voice, perhaps smell them,” she looked at Trevor here, who snorted derisively.

“But I also feel more than that. It’s difficult to effectively describe to anyone who cannot sense it. Sypha, you have one of the most concentrated, strong energies I’ve ever encountered in a human. Your link to the magical world is very powerful; it radiates from you. I can feel that easily when you are around. I would recognize you even if you were hidden among hundreds of others, by that unique signature. Trevor, You don’t have magic like these two, but you are different than most people. The Belmont family all have the ability to sense vampires and night creatures, like I can, but it seems limited to that, where I can also sense other magical beings, and I can determine a great deal more that only their location and strength. Your family has a long history of crossing its own bloodlines back in on itself, which ensures that future generations will also have this ability. It’s uniquely important to you given your chosen pastime,” she paused here, giving Trevor the opportunity to sputter indignantly at her.

“Are you saying you think my family inbreeds?” he said, offended.

“I’m certain they do. Not exclusively, and not every generation, but yes, every now and again they did marry cousins or uncles or whatnot. It’s a fairly common practice in noble circles. Anyhow, my point is simply that you stand out to me as another ‘perceptive’ being, even though the scope is far removed from my own. Of course, my general impression is not only of that. You are very strong, which shows plainly to me. You come off as deeply courageous and willful, and with something bitter and sharp as well, as though you have had to fight a lot to survive. Your losses are numerous and tragic, but you retain your goodness. That’s important. You will need that.”

Trevor just grunted at this, not particularly appreciative of being picked apart layer by layer by a stranger. He quieted after Hana’s exposition on him, mulling it over and staring into his ale cup reflectively.

“You can feel Alucard’s magic too?” Sypha asked before taking the last bite of her stew and cleaning her bowl with her final piece of bread.

Adrian was moving through the meal at a more sedate pace, mindful of his manners. He took smaller bites, finishing each entirely before the next, tearing off small pieces of the bread and popping them into his mouth, careful not to get crumbs all over. He sat straight in his chair and kept his elbows off the table.

Hana nodded to Sypha. “Of course. It is very unusual, vastly different from your own. Sypha, you are strongly connected to nature, similarly to myself. Alucard, like Dracula, is contrary to that. Their energies are hellish, and frightening to me. It is difficult to tolerate. My initial reaction is to recoil and protect myself. Alucard reads similarly to other vampires, but his humanity is there as well, as though his core were limned in a softer, gentler aura. I have not met any other vampires directly, but those I’ve encountered at length did not share this quality. It is unique to him. He has purity of heart, despite his nature, a balance I have never encountered before meeting him. All of you share that, you know. Each of you is uniquely gifted, but each of you has that same goodness. You are, for the moment, untainted by the gravity of your lives.”

Hana paused, giving her words a moment to sink in, and looking between Adrian, Trevor and Sypha carefully. “Each of us has potential to change through our own choices and actions. All of you would do well to remember that. I believe that even Dracula was once pure of heart, or, at the very least, human, and innocent.”

She seemed to deflate after speaking, her eyes growing far away for a moment, obviously remembering something. She poked at her meal, but didn’t eat anymore.

“My perceptions are quite acute,” she volunteered suddenly. “Unfortunately, I cannot turn them off. That’s why I live so far out of the village – it was more bearable for me here. But some things still reach me, even as secluded as I am. When Dracula came and burned everything… I have never felt such darkness and pain. So much death at once, and his own misery so overwhelming. Hatred so thick as to be impenetrable. Bitterness and blame, deep resentment. And buried beyond all of that, sadness, grief. Loss. It was more than I could bear to tolerate,” Hana paused, her body tightening with what appeared to be visceral discomfort.

She took a few stabilizing breaths, her hand over her chest as though it pained her. Her jaw tightened, making the wrinkled skin of her throat shift. “I secluded myself here within the protection spell and placed another upon my home, and a final one on my person in attempt to block as much of it out as I could, but I still felt it, and it was horribly painful.”

She stopped again, and Adrian could see that her eyes had become glassy. When she continued speaking, it was clear she was working to keep from crying, her voice warped with the thickness of withheld tears. “It took me nearly two days after he burned everything to be able to go out and tend the livestock, and another after that before I could keep down solid food. My gifts feel more like a curse at such times.”

A somber weight settled over the small table and its four occupants. Adrian alone knew how astute her observations were firsthand, and he was brought back to the day his mother had died, when he had confronted his father and tried to make him see reason, which, of course, had been an abject failure, resulting only in his own severe injury, both physically and otherwise.

He suddenly stood, pushing his chair back with a jarring scraping noise. He left the table, his meal half eaten, and strode silently towards the entrance, parting the beaded curtain so he could pass through it. He donned his boots and exited into the night, leaving his coat behind.

He didn’t have any specific destination in mind, he just needed some air and space. The house was too small suddenly, and his chest hurt, the old scar there somehow throbbing even though it was healed. The description of his father’s wrathful hatred was too much to bear. He stood on the porch, fingers tracing the runic carvings on one of the posts, thinking about the castle.

_This is foolish, nothing will be accomplished by running away from here,_ he chided himself, knowing he didn’t have anywhere to go. Instead, he opted to make himself useful. He saw the well with its hand pump some distance from the house and grabbed the water bucket from beside the door, padding in his soft boots over the lightly frosted grass until he reached the pump. He filled the bucket and busied himself giving water to all of the animals, including their horses in the barn, Daisy, and the rabbits and chickens. Then he filled the bucket again and brought it back to the house, setting it on the porch beside the door.

Not yet ready to go back inside, he looked around for something he could do. A few minutes later saw him at the wood shed, which was some distance from the house behind the barn, sleeves rolled up, axe in hand, splitting log after log with powerful swings of the tool, all the while forcibly refusing to allow himself to look north, in the direction of the castle. His hair flew around his shoulders and caught in the breeze, tickling his face and neck as he worked. Though he wielded the axe one-handed, he moved at a human pace, not wanting to do all of it too fast lest he be devoid of something to occupy himself with as he thought about the things Hana had said.

She’d literally _felt_ the horror of his father’s fiery attack on the nearby village. She’d felt it with such intensity that it had apparently rendered her unable to function for _days_. And she’d also said that initially she could hardly tell Adrian apart from the man who emanated that awful darkness.

He brought the axe down on another log, the handle creaking beneath the force.

He hadn’t any particular expectations of her, but her statements about him, and what she felt from him were disturbing. He didn’t like being described as hellish and frightening; he didn’t feel that way at all. He had wanted to correct her, to argue with her and point out her obvious error in judgment, but who was he to tell her what she could feel with her strange extra sense?

_Did_ he come off that way? Was that what comprised his core, the deepest parts of him? Something from Hell? A ‘creature of darkness’ with a streak of humanity? That was wrong. He knew it was wrong. He was dhampir – half vampire, and half human. _Equally_ each. Of course, he had always felt closer to his vampire heritage, but to be told outright that he ‘felt’ the same as his father caught him off-guard. He wouldn’t have guessed it, and it hurt to hear it. Adrian had lived his whole life by a strong moral compass, and he’d stood up for what he felt was right, _especially_ in the face of his father. He was quite literally trying to save the world from the man, and now he was being lumped alongside him in the same category.

The idea of it made him angry, but then the anger itself was discomfiting and he didn’t know what to do with it, so he kept swinging the axe home, trying not to dwell on it.

By the time Trevor and Sypha came to find him Adrian had a stack of firewood beside him that was nearly as tall as he was. He brought the axe down again, the blade sinking into the wide round log and forcing it apart. The two halves fell to either side and he picked one of them up, placing it atop the other, then repeated the action, axe head driving through _both_ pieces, giving him four.

“That’s one way to do it,” Trevor said, arms crossed as he leaned against the small wood shed.

Adrian stopped what he was doing, letting the axe rest over his shoulder. He looked between Sypha and Trevor, his shoulders wilting. “I needed some air,” he said by way of explanation, deflating beneath their gazes.

“It’s alright, I think Hana needed a moment too,” Sypha said, moving closer when she saw he had paused his activity. “Come here,” she beckoned with open arms and he sank the axe partway into the next log and went to her, allowing her to pull him into a hug.

“You too, Trev,” she said, and the hunter came and wrapped his arms around them both as well.

Adrian laid his head on Trevor’s shoulder, his nose against Sypha’s tousled curls. He closed his eyes and listened to their bodies close to his own, soaking in their familiar heat and comforting touch. Someone was running their fingers over his back – it felt nice.

The embrace went a long way to soothing him, and he found he felt a bit better just for the physical closeness of both his partners. They were the balm to his stung heart, almost instantly placating him and quelling the uneasiness roiling inside. They didn’t even have to say anything; he knew they loved him no matter what he was. His hands found their way to the base of each of their skulls. He slid his fingers gratefully into their hair and pulled their heads close to his, silently thankful for them both.

“We should go back inside and help Hana clean up,” Sypha said after a minute. “She mentioned something about a place for us to bathe as well.”

“I would like that,” Adrian answered, finding a smile for her. “After we take the castle, the first thing I am doing is scrubbing myself until there isn’t a trace of dirt left anywhere. Both of you as well. Then, we’re going to sleep in a proper bed, with fine linens, and thick curtains over the windows to block out the morning light. We’ll sleep until we feel like waking up. Then we are going to eat a huge meal, made in a proper kitchen, off of nice china. Have you ever had freshly squeezed orange juice?”

“No,” Sypha said, and Adrian eased out of the hug a few inches so he could see her face.

“It’s delectable,” he assured. “The castle has a large greenhouse, so we will have access to fresh fruit and vegetables all the time, no matter where we are or what season it is. You’ll love it.”

“Sounds great,” Trevor said, shrugging out of the embrace. “Just what I always wanted, to live in Dracula’s castle and drink fancy orange juice. Fuck my life got weird,” he reflected offhandedly, turning and wandering back toward the main house.

Adrian was going to say something more, but swallowed it back, tightening his arm around Sypha’s shoulders.

“That does sound really nice,” Sypha said to him, glancing up at his face. “I’ve always lived with the other Speakers before I was with you and Trevor. We were constantly moving, always traveling. It will be a big change to be in one place for a long time. I hope we can fix the thing I broke, so the castle can move again.”

“I don’t know if we can Sypha, but I am quite confident that Father will have kept records of the construction and materials. If we can find them, and understand them, we could try to repair it.”

They made their way back inside, where Hana directed them to wash her dishes and clean up the table. Adrian once again found himself wondering at how they ended up at this odd woman’s home, doing her chores and busywork when all they had planned to do was drop off the goat and be on their way. At least, that’s all he’d planned, anyhow.

After dinner was tidied away, Hana showed them to the bath house. It was not nearly as glamorous as the title made it sound. It was literally a wooden barrel barely large enough to accommodate one person, confined to a tiny shack in the yard. One had to manually fill the tub with water, then find a way to submerge as much of themselves as possible in order to wash whilst trying not to freeze to death.

Sypha went first. She heated the water with magic and disappeared into the small room, hanging her clothing outside on the hook near the doorway.

When she was finished, Trevor followed suit. Adrian could hear him sighing when he entered the water, which was changed out, replenished, then freshly heated by Sypha’s fire magic.

Adrian went last. He squatted awkwardly in the small basin, the water barely covering his chest. He tried to dunk his head under between his bent knees, managing eventually to soak himself enough that he could apply soap. It was infused with mint and rosemary, and it felt wonderful on his skin and scalp. He scratched at his hair for far longer than necessary, then stood and scrubbed every part of himself until he was blessedly clean. For the majority of the bath he simply closed his eyes and pretended he was home, and that made it a lot more bearable.

He emerged refreshed, his skin tingling lightly from the peppermint in the soap. Bathing was cathartic to Adrian. He loved to be clean, and even washing in a cramped barrel was far preferable to not washing at all. He felt a lot better afterwards, and his mind was a great deal more settled.

He dressed and returned to the house, where the others had gathered once more. As he approached the doorway he felt a distinct wave of unpleasantness, his skin suddenly crawling. Dread coiled in his belly.

He stopped just inside the doorway, easily recognizing the book that Sypha had taken from the Hold spread over the kitchen table, both lanterns above it lit for light. Hana and Sypha were seated side by side at the head of the table, numerous magical baubles spread before them including stones and feathers, and a few of Hana’s amulets. Something pungent and vaguely rotten smelling was mashed in a mortar and pestle that sat to Hana’s side.

Trevor was back in the chair he’d occupied much of the evening, with another cup of ale in hand, his eyes glittering wetly in the light of the fire. He had his head propped in his hand, elbow resting on the arm of the chair. His hair was still damp, his skin fresh and clean. Adrian could hear him breathing a little louder than usual, and he knew by the look in his eyes and the alcoholic miasma that hung about him that he was quite drunk by this point, which explained the thoroughly contented, if glazed expression on his face. Adrian wanted very much to go to him and sink into the couch with him, but he refrained from doing so, glancing warily to the book on the table instead.

“Oh Alucard, just a second,” Sypha said, and reached beside her chair to get the bag she’d made for the book. She slid it into the protective cloth and the coiling revulsion abruptly stopped, cut off by the spelled bag.

“Come sit,” she urged him, patting the nearest spot at the table.

Adrian eyed the book with trepidation, but he obliged, pulling out the chair and lowering himself into it. He sat stiffly, his hands in his lap, eyes roaming over the collection of things that were on the dark wooden surface.

“We’ve been going over some things,” Sypha began, catching his eyes. Her hands were resting atop the sheathed volume, and he noted how her fingers tightened over its edges as she spoke. Hana appeared relaxed, her twisted fingers working the mortar and pestle, grinding the strong smelling concoction further.

“Hana has already explained that she has some very rare gifts,” Sypha continued, flicking her blue eyes to the surface of the table, then back to Adrian’s. “She knew we would come here before we arrived, she knew Dracula would destroy the village, and she knows other things, some of which might be very helpful to us. We also looked in the book together, and found some pretty important stuff about the castle and your father. I hadn’t read that part before tonight.”

Hana’s hands stilled on her work. She removed the pestle from the mortar, then dumped the contents into a small, strangely shaped metal contraption, which Adrian realized was to burn incense. She then rose from the table and began to go around the house, blowing out candles and extinguishing the lanterns until the only ones that remained were those which flickered on her altar near the wall, and the light from the hearth, which was dimmer now, the fire burned low, though it still threw a lot of heat.

It seemed like Trevor was falling asleep in front of the hearth, his eyes closing longer and longer between blinks, his half finished cup loose in his fingers.

Adrian watched Hana move slowly but methodically about, the air becoming smoky from the candles being put out all at once. The house was hot and stuffy and now it was dim, the smoke hanging in air over the table in a motionless haze.

She went to the altar and retrieved a dish. It was heavy, made of some kind of stone which had been polished until it gleamed. It had a solid foot reminiscent of a pedestal, and the curved body was wide, though shallow. She placed it on the table with some effort, her misshapen fingers struggling to grasp the neck of the dish at its thinnest part. It came to rest on the tabletop with a dull _thud_. She then gathered a few other items from the altar: some stones, some herbs, a small, finely made knife which gleamed in the dim lighting and hummed with magic.

Hana went into the kitchen and came back with the water pitcher, which she left on the table. She went back and returned once more, this time her arms laden with a number of small clay jars, each smelling of various substances, some familiar, some Adrian had never encountered before. She set them all down and opened one – salt. This she took and began to pour in a circle around the table itself, which Adrian watched with growing unease.

Salt was well-known to be harmful to demons and night creatures, though it did not cause him any discomfort due to his half-human nature. It was also used in magical practice, for consecration and cleansing. When Hana was finished with her circle she set the jar of salt on the table and pushed it to the side. She lit a candle – a fat, fragrant beeswax affair which produced a warm flickering glow between the three of them.

Hana busied herself lighting the mixture of herbs she’d previously placed in the censer and sliding it slightly closer to him. He wrinkled his nose at the odour, the smoke thick and cloying. It curled from the holes in the device and hung over the table, stinging his eyes. She then opened another of the jars she’d taken from the kitchen and poured about an ounce of strong smelling alcohol into a small glass, pushing it towards him. It stunk like juniper or lemon or something equally sharp.

“Alucard,” she said slowly, finally meeting his eyes, which were beginning to water from the smoke. He realized that he felt strange, sort of slow, and the colours around him seemed to deepen and shift, as though they were alive. The flame from the candle on the table was dancing and twisting, and he found it difficult to look away from the beautiful undulations of orange and yellow. His fingertips tingled, and he put his hands on the table, momentarily distracted by the texture of the wood against his skin, the sensation of the deep, worn grains suddenly very engrossing.

“Alucard,” Hana repeated herself and he looked up at her. Her eyes, already nearly black, seemed much darker now, like two ebony coals set in her face. He stared into them through the hazy air, unblinking, caught in the darkened depths.

“You and your companions are on the verge of an altercation which will determine the course of humanity. You will face it together, but you alone have a terrible burden to bear. Tonight, I wish to give you insight on the gravity of that responsibility, so that you may gain a more thorough understanding of what must be done.”

Adrian absorbed her grave words, made all the more heavy by the atmosphere of the room and the strange sensations working into his body, possibly an effect of the herbs smoking in the censer.

Hana poured some water into the heavy stone dish. She retrieved another of the little jars from the kitchen and opened it, pouring a drop of something into the dish with the water. She then plucked the stones she’d brought with her from the surface of the table and dropped them into the dish. They rolled together and came to rest in the middle at the bottom – a clear stone flecked with little bits of blue, and another one more jagged and sharp, smoky black laced with clear veins that sparked in the light, like diamonds.

The glittering surface of the water drew Adrian’s attention. The colours were vivid and intense to his eyes, constantly changing as he watched them through the slight ripple of the water. He glanced at Sypha and saw her staring into it as well. He noticed that her eyes were wide and dark, the blue of her iris a tiny thin ring around the perimeter of her dilated pupils. Her lips were reddened and moist, and the throb of her pulse was very visible at her collar, thumping methodically beneath the bruise that still lingered where he’d bitten her almost a week ago.

Adrian felt his thirst rise unbidden, his fangs sensitive suddenly, the points pricking at his tongue as he ran it over them and swallowed, his tongue feeling dry against the roof of his mouth. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head, but the slow, syrupy quality that everything was taking on did not subside. Hana pushed the small glass she had poured towards him.

“Drink this, and we can begin.”

Adrian frowned, looking at it for a long moment, trying to find words. “What is it?” he said, picking the glass up and giving it a cursory sniff, even though he could plainly smell the contents from halfway across the room. The coldness of the glass was pleasant in comparison to the heat of the room. His claws had extended slightly, the tips of his nails now ending in sharp points. He examined them curiously, wondering at the effect. He felt very calm, entirely unruffled by the odd circumstances. He thought he should be more unsettled, but he simply wasn’t.

“It’s to help you see more clearly,” Hana explained, although it was no explanation at all. “It is not dangerous, it will help you to relax and become more receptive to the magic we’re going to raise.”

Adrian studied the way the candlelight was trapped by the shape of the glass, his finger sliding along the small vessel contemplatively. He looked at Sypha. She wouldn’t put him in a dangerous position; he trusted her.

She reached across the table and touched his free hand, her palm covering his. She nodded slightly and squeezed his hand gently. He felt her pulse through her fingers, the heat and movement of her blood. It was a challenge to push that aside and focus on her words instead. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m right here, and Trevor is here too. Nothing bad will happen.”

He considered what she way saying, though his attention was again drawn to the candle flame, unable to help watching the movements and colours. His eyes watered and stung from the incense, but he hardly blinked. “What is it you think I will see?” he asked of Hana.

“I can’t say,” she answered, carefully pushing the heavy stone bowl until it sat in front of him. The surface of the water wavered back and forth from the movement, making the stones within shine and reflect the candlelight. “I don’t know what it will show you. I do this to help clarify things I dream or feel from others, which can often be confusing and sometimes they make no sense at all. To learn more about something specific, I use this. My gifts are impossible to focus or limit. I am like a sponge for extraneous energies – I pick things up but I can’t filter them. I have experienced premonitions, visions, prophetic dreams. I’ve seen things I can’t understand or explain, which often have no meaning to me until long after I see them. I’ve had numerous frightening and terrible dreams involving your father’s castle, and you. It’s jumbled, soaked in blood, violent and dark. Maybe some of it will make sense to you, help you determine what you need to do. I know only that you have a terrible cross to bear, Alucard, and you must bear it, or many will suffer and perish. The dreams have come more often since the castle appeared, almost every night. There is an urgency in them now. I must do this. I must show you. The magic will be stronger with Sypha to assist me with the spell.”

Adrian listened to Hana tell him about her experiences. It sounded rather preposterous to him on the whole, but between the strange viscous quality imparted to her words by the incense, and the way she spoke, it was hard not to take each word to heart. He found himself picking up the small glass of pine-smelling alcohol and bringing it to his lips. He tried not to breathe it in as he tossed it back, swallowing the shot quickly in the hopes that he didn’t have to taste it, because nothing which smelled that bad could taste good.

As he did this Hana took a pinch of something from one of the jars and dropped it into the candle. The flame rose several inches, skinny and tall, wavering strangely. The substance he’d drunk was cold – icy cold. It spread quickly from his mouth, numbing his lips and tongue until he could scarcely feel them at all. It slid into his gut like a cold lump and settled there for several seconds. Slowly, it started to spread outwards, and at the same time, Adrian felt like he was falling backwards, like wind was rushing past his head and filling his ears. He gripped the surface of the table for purchase, claws sinking into the wood, his eyes wide but unable to focus on anything specific.

The sensation only lasted a moment, then everything slowed down, crawling sluggishly, the movement of the candle now as though it were being viewed at half speed. He watched it, rapt, hardly aware of anything else, though he heard Sypha’s voice close to him, speaking the words of a spell in a language he didn’t know, and he smelled blood.

That got his attention; he looked at Hana. She had the small knife in one hand and had pricked her fingertip. A drop of her blood swelled, gathering at the tiny wound, glistening and swirling beautifully, the colour a deep crimson in the hazy room. She extended her finger over the bowl of water and let the drop fall into it. It broke the surface and Adrian watched it dissolve into the water, unfurling like the tendrils of a strange flower until it disappeared into the water itself.

“Now you need to add a drop of your own blood,” Hana explained to him. He flicked reddened eyes to her, the words strange to his ears, taking a moment to process. He nodded and brought one of his fingers to his mouth, piercing it with the tip of a fang. He let the droplet fall into the bowl and the small wound healed before another could form.

With the scent of blood in the air, and the odd numbing, slowness to everything, Adrian was quite disoriented, but as he looked into the bowl of water, he found that everything else fell away, his eyes coming to rest on the flecks of blue and silver that reflected from the depths of the dish. The sound of Sypha’s voice was joined by Hana, both of them speaking in unison until he could not tell one from the other. The perimeter of the circle began to glow faintly, and the electric tingle of magic rose around him, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the bowl.

He blinked, and then he wasn’t in the house anymore.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment. Feedback helps me to understand what readers enjoy, and how I can improve. Also, if feels great!
> 
> Thank you very much for sticking with me this far! More soon.


	30. Part Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is a doozy of a chapter. The longest in the book so far, actually, and I still had to cut it off at the end. Sorry for that! I suppose I had a lot to say. So, get comfortable and enjoy!

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty**

When Adrian opened his eyes, the soft dim lights of Hana’s home were gone. The scent of strange herbs smoking in the censer and candle wax were absent. He found himself alone, his body strangely numb to the world around him.

It was jarring – suddenly he wasn’t in the place he knew he should be. Instead he was… somewhere else.

It was cold. Far colder than Hana’s cozy cottage. It was damp, and dark, although Adrian could easily see around himself. Large stone blocks, each one at least two feet thick lined the walls, spanning upward into the blackness above him. Far overhead, massive square beams were framing the ceiling, and colonies of bats crawled over one another, their animal scent thick in the air. There were a few scant torches in holders here and there, offering just enough light to dance and flicker against the damp stones. The floor was stone as well, and Adrian floated ethereally across it, hovering a couple of inches off of the ground.

He knew this was a part of the castle, although he couldn’t say specifically _which_ part. He recognized the stone, and the general feel of the place, although this area looked older and more primitive than much of what he was accustomed to. The electric lighting was absent here, but there were many places in the castle where the lights didn’t reach, so that wasn’t terribly unusual.

He put his hand on the wall nearest him and felt the freezing stones against his skin. He was surprised – he knew this wasn’t real, yet he felt the hard rock acutely beneath his fingertips. Intrigued, Adrian followed along the wide corridor, finding he did not recognize it. That wasn’t much of a shock, as there were many places he had never been able to access, despite spending more than half his life in this place.

After some time wandering along the hall Adrian came to a set of double doors. They were crude, ancient, and the hinges were made of hammered iron. There were rings to pull them open. As he reached for one, the door opened of its own accord, creaking as it swung wide. The wood must have been six inches thick, reinforced with broad, flat strips of iron every foot or so. The scent of magic was strong here – like sulfurous hellfire. It was so strong it made his skin tingle, like it was rolling over him, _through_ him.

Adrian peered into the room with morbid curiosity. He floated inside and the doors swung shut once more. He observed that they locked from the inside – a huge wooden bar could be dropped into place to hold them closed against all but the most powerful forces, and heavy iron locks secured them further. The locks took no key – there was no visible way to open them, but at present they remained open, the massive wooden bar secured to the wall beside the door, rather than blocking it.

There were three things which were immediately apparent in the space beyond the doors. First, and by far the strongest, was the overwhelming scent of blood. Adrian’s eyes coloured helplessly, his fangs twinging and throbbing at the powerful scent. It permeated the entire space so intensely that it was comparable only to being entirely drenched in the stuff.

The second was the scent of earth. He floated still, but beneath him was soil. The stones which composed the corridors and floors outside of the room gave way to a hard and compacted earthen floor here, and that, in turn, gave way in the center of the room to what looked like a small pond filled with blood. The earth at its edge was dark and saturated with it. There were also vessels like the veins and arteries found within a human body which grew outwards from the pool. They were thicker around than his arm in some places, and pulsed rhythmically with the flow of the blood through them. They penetrated the floor, crawled up the walls and disappeared _into_ the stones in an interconnected web. In one corner of the room was a large stone structure which strongly resembled a sarcophagus, although it was plain and unmarked. Glancing at it, Adrian saw that some of the blood vessels twined around it and fed into the stone of which it was composed. The lid was closed, so he couldn’t see inside.

The third thing which could not be ignored, was the sheer concentration of magical energy in the space. It was absolutely chaotic magic, the same variety he and his father wielded. It was strong enough that the room itself was hot with it, the floor beneath him was baked warm, and the pool of blood at the center of the room shifted as the warmest parts rose to the surface and the cooler, surface blood was circulated back downwards. It was without question the strongest magic he had ever felt – it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise, the sensation of it almost unbearable in its intensity. His heart beat faster, and his eyes glowed unearthly red as they did when he used his own power.

Adrian touched down, his feet settling on the bare earth, avoiding the strange and grotesque veins which permeated the room. As soon as he touched the dirt he felt magic throbbing beneath him in an unusual, yet familiar rhythm, like a heartbeat. The room had a heartbeat, he realized. He could feel it through the soles of his feet, which were bare. He was only in his linen shirt and leather pants. Now, his feet contacted the warm, damp earth, and magic pulsed beneath them, strangely pleasant. He felt an answering vibration of magic within himself, his blood stirring excitedly.

The place was pulling him in, it was welcoming him, recognizing the blood and magic in him. His mouth watered, his fangs ached. His claws grew to their full length. The pull of the place was impossible to refuse. It whispered to him seductively in an inaudible voice that was punctuated by the pounding pulse of blood. It beckoned him towards the pool at the center of the room, and with every step forward he felt all the rest fall away, as though all that mattered was the chaotic power and blood. It became difficult to think of anything else, or to remember why he was there at all. His instincts and urges ran wild, he wanted to hunt, to kill, to dominate and own. He wanted to conquer. He wanted to make sure nothing and nobody _ever_ discovered what was _his._ He knew in that moment that he would destroy anyone or anything who dared to try and take it from him.

A scraping sound interrupted the sudden onslaught of thoughts and pulled his attention from the rhythmical thumping that was echoing in his whole body and fast unraveling his rational mind.

The lid of the stone coffin shifted and was slid open. It was heavy – several inches of solid stone – but the occupant of the space moved it with relative ease. A familiar clawed hand curled over the lip of the stone box. His father’s ring glinted in the torchlight, the simple metal band catching his eye in a strange way, as if it were breaking through the irrational haze of violence which emanated from the pool and the room itself. Adrian watched, transfixed, as his father sat up in the coffin and rose gracefully from it.

His clothing was strange – primitive and unrecognizable to him. It looked like finely spun silk, dyed red and black and embellished with beautiful details, but it was not of the present era, that much was clear. There were several layers to the costume, including a sash that went across the torso and over one shoulder. Adrian had never seen his father wear anything like it. Generally, however, his appearance was identical, his age and facial features exactly as they always had been.

More than any other detail, however, the ring Adrian had always assumed was his parent’s wedding band was hard to look away from. Adrian continued to stare at the unremarkable bit of metal as his father exited the coffin and adjusted his clothing, straightening it out and adorning a long cape which was quite reminiscent of the one he typically wore – black with a bright red interior. It shifted as the tall figure move across the room, coming to stand at the edge of the bloody pool. His eyes flashed with fire. Indeed the whole room responded to him, the overwhelming atmosphere of chaos calming marginally at his mere presence, as though it were somehow under his control.

He stared into the depths of the pool for a moment, then adjusted the ring on his finger with his opposite hand. Then, without any further preamble, he strode from the room, his long cape swirling in his wake. The door opened before him and swung shut behind him, leaving Adrian alone once more.

As soon as he was gone from the space, the throbbing of the blood in the pool grew immediately more intense, and Adrian felt once more overcome by a fascination with the pool itself, its heartbeat, and the possibility that he could keep it all to himself. The sense of pleasure as he drew closer was undeniable. Even the feel of the soil beneath his feet was wonderful and welcoming and he could barely resist the pull of it. He wanted to crawl into it and soak in the power and magic that made his blood sing and made him feel utterly unhinged and wild.

Slowly, the vision faded, breaking the spell it held him in. The sounds dulled until he couldn’t hear them any longer. The scent of blood dissipated until it was only a memory. Even though Adrian knew this was a vision and not reality, he felt a strange wistfulness at the loss of it, a lonely, empty weakness at suddenly being separated from the place which he now understood was the heart of the castle, and something entirely greater than that as well.

He did not have any opportunity to mourn the loss, however, because when he next blinked the scene before him was changed, the vision transporting him to another time and place, although it appeared he was still within the castle itself.

Adrian was on the stairs which led up to his childhood bedroom. He found himself crouched, peeking through the balusters as he had so often done when he was a small boy, only this time his mother was nowhere in sight, and he saw himself, Trevor, and Sypha standing together, panting with exertion and covered in the obvious evidence of a recent battle for their lives. Adrian’s sword dripped with fresh blood. Trevor’s Morning Star was still smoking where it had impacted their enemy’s flesh. He could smell the burned body in the air – his father’s – and it was mixed with his own blood, and Trevor and Sypha’s. Each of them appeared weary and wounded, but alive. The exception was his father, who was now represented by a considerable pile of ash and several scorch marks which marred the finely woven carpet before the fire.

Adrian saw the exhausted, but triumphant expressions on Trevor and Sypha’s faces, and the frozen, forlorn one on his own. He could sense his own sorrow, and knew that they had succeeded in their goal. His father was dead, and his reign of terror and bloodshed was over.

A shiny glimmering reflected off of something in the firelight. Trevor bent and picked up Vlad Dracula’s ring, turning it over in his hand. It was all that had survived the flames that Sypha had presumably used to ensure he was well and truly dead.

“I guess you might want to keep this,” he said to Adrian, dropping it into his gloved palm.

He watched his mirror self stare disconnectedly at the trinket, looking utterly lost. He looked back to the ashen heap, then glanced beyond the sofa, which was destroyed, slashed in several places with the horsehair stuffing coming out in clumps. He stared at the portrait of his family which hung over the writing desk on the far wall of the room. It was one of the only undamaged things which remained – most of the space had been reduced to splinters and was seared or marred in slashes and rubble.

Moving with a numbness that Adrian would recognize anywhere, his other self strode to the desk, opened the top drawer and dropped the ring inside, sliding it shut.

“We should get cleaned up,” Sypha said gently, her hand holding a wound on her shoulder which was oozing her blood still, though it appeared she had attempted to cauterize it with her own flames, if the burnt skin around it was any indication. “Come on,” she said, removing her hand from the wound so she could take Adrian’s gloved fingers and tug him away from the grisly scene. He followed, listless, looking like a specter dragging behind Sypha, limp and wispy, deflated and broken. Trevor brought up the rear, slipping an arm around Adrian’s shoulders and taking the forgotten bloodied sword out of his grip.

“You don’t need this anymore right now,” Trevor said to him, guiding him from the room without looking back.

Adrian watched the three leave the room from his place on the stairs, trying not to look at the spot where his father had died by his own hand. He could not place the awful mix of feelings that roiled in his guts at the sight. It was a relief when the scene began to fade and blur, the vivid details blending together until he wasn’t looking at them any longer.

The next time Adrian blinked he was once more aware of being somewhere different. This time he was in one of the highest towers of the castle itself. He found himself again greeted with the sight of Trevor, Sypha, and himself, but it was clear immediately that they had both aged considerably, although he looked the same as he did now, if wearier, and somehow hardened.

The trio were standing at the highest tower, looking out over the surrounding lands. The castle was in the same place where it rested in the present day – evidently it had not moved again in whatever span of time had passed between this vision and the present. The sky was laden with bruise-coloured clouds and there was a harsh wind whipping the tower, although they were behind glass, so they were protected from it. It moaned and made the windows rattle.

There were so many things to take in at once that Adrian found it hard to process all of it. The first thing he noticed was that Trevor was missing an arm. The stump where his left arm had been ended halfway down the humerus, old scar tissue marring the skin. His hair was longer, greyed at the temples, his eyes laced with fine wrinkles, and one was cloudy, a significant scar disfiguring that side of his face. It dwarfed the old vertical scar that the man had always had; it was no longer visible at all. Trevor’s face was thinner, but his body appeared strong, the sinewy ropes of lean muscle easily visible wherever his skin was bare, such as his other forearm, and his neck. His shoulders were as broad as ever, his chest thick and powerful. He had the Morning Star and a sword on his belt. His jaw was set in a hard grimace and he stared with cold, calculating blue eyes over the desolate landscape that surrounded the castle.

Sypha was similarly toned and finely lined, as though she’d been standing in a cold wind. Her cheeks were red and raw. Her hair was shaved short on the sides, though it looked much the same as it ever had on top, curly and coppery. A long braid trailed down one shoulder, woven with beads and feathers. Her darkly shadowed blue eyes mirrored Trevor’s, staring over the world beyond the castle as though looking for trouble. She wore a man’s breeches and boots and carried some small weapons at her belt, in addition to wearing bracelets which clearly amplified magic, and some talismans or amulets which reminded Adrian of Hana. Her neck was scarred in the same place many times, right over her carotid. There was a fresh bite over it now, the bruise still dark purple and the scabs from fangs new. Adrian flicked his eyes to Trevor’s throat and saw a similar lacework of bite scars – evidence that he fed from both of them regularly and had for a long time, but without much delicacy.

Both of them were criss-crossed with many new scars – Sypha was even missing an ear completely. They appeared as though they had spent years engaged in endless fighting, and from their stances and facial expressions, Adrian could find no evidence to the contrary. The light had gone from both of them. That beautiful sparkle of life he’d come to love in Sypha was absent, and Trevor’s intractability seemed worn away, replaced with coldness. They seemed weary, though determined. Their clothing was scuffed, singed and torn in places, and their hair was greasy – whatever life they were living, it wasn’t a pleasant one – there didn’t seem to me much consideration given to comfort or pleasure.

Even though Adrian would know Trevor and Sypha anywhere, he had a hard time reconciling the two people he was seeing now with his lovers, and his heart twisted uncomfortably at the scene, a sense of foreboding mounting within him.

There were many night creatures around the room as well, big, powerful ones with large wings and talons, all standing in deference to the trio in the tower. They stood poised for battle, awaiting command.

Adrian examined his future self, finally. He stood tall, proud, his appearance much the same as always, save his eyes, which were like two bright points that glittered unsympathetically from his face. They were ringed in dark circles, and the hand which hovered at the hilt of his weapon was clawed. His shoulders were set tightly, as though he were ready to spring into action at any moment. He was wrapped in a long dark cape much like his fathers, only accented in gold, rather than red. The way he stood and moved reminded Adrian of his father too – as though he were entitled to anything he wanted and expected to get it. As though he were a king surveying his kingdom.

It wasn’t much of a kingdom. The land around the castle was burnt to nothing; no trees or life existed save actively warring troupes of what must have been both humans and vampires, fighting one another in attempt to gain access to the castle, where the trio would presumably pick them off if they tried to attack it. A sea of rotted corpses spread in every direction, humans, animals, vampires – all dead and gone. Mostly bones, a few more fresh.

The dense forest beyond that was greatly changed. It was no longer a forest. Instead, it contained what appeared to be war camps and enemy bases, fortified against the elements, which were obviously harsh and unforgiving. The current wind was partnered with intense lightening and cold rain, but the nearby river had run dry and oozed sluggishly, appearing to be made of little more than a trickle of mud. Most of the trees had been cut and burned, or were destroyed by fighting. In one area there was a massive black patch from a huge forest fire; the remains of the trees there little more than blackened stumps.

The vision shifted, so that Adrian was now looking up at the castle from the area beyond it. The massive structure was riddled with holes, much of it ruined by attacks and fighting. It was dilapidated, yet it pulsed with a dark energy, a chaotic power that reminded Adrian of the first vision, of the pool deep within the structure’s bowels. Blackness shrouded the whole thing – an eternal darkness – and he could feel the pull of it immediately.

He wanted to go to it, take it, keep it for himself. He looked around himself from his vantage point hovering high above the various war camps in the remnants of the forest and saw very quickly why people were so drawn to it. It was alluring; it called to him and whispered to him that he could gain great power within. The magnetic pull defied all logic and appealed to a baser instinct inside himself – and apparently within all the humans and vampires gathered near it as well.

He saw humans gathered in small troupes, their faces gaunt, sickly. They were filthy and obviously malnourished. They coughed and trailed snot from their noses. Some scratched at spots that marked their skin. They wore rags and old, worn armor, and they fought among themselves constantly, their eyes dead, yet all of them filled with an underlying greedy sort of determination.

There were factions of vampires as well. These were smaller, healthier, and many had pens with humans in them, most close to death from repeated feedings and starvation. The vampires were more organized, but they were also more crazed, and Adrian saw some of them break into fights with each other, behaving as little more than animals scrabbling over bits of food. They snarled, hissed, bared their fangs, and rolled together in the dirt, claws slashing at any available flesh they could reach.

Small waves of these various groups would make attempts at the castle, rushing it headlong only to fall to the night creatures which protected it, or to Sypha and Adrian’s magic.

The land beyond that was slowly revealed as the vision once more shifted, giving Adrian another new angle. It moved beyond the reach of the castle itself, into some far-off city. Much of it was abandoned, and many of the humans who remained were sick and thin, appearing listless, hopeless. It was night, and vampires roamed freely, taking prisoners as they pleased, killing indiscriminately. Night creatures were abound as well, although they were no longer organized in groups as they had been during Dracula’s genocide. They roved wild like animals, feeding on anything they could find.

Adrian felt as though he would be sick. He wanted to cover his eyes, he wanted to get away from this horrible nightmare vision that seemed to get worse and worse.

Finally, the intense and awful scene faded once more, and Adrian sighed with relief. He hoped fervently that it was over – he didn’t know if he could handle another vision right now.

Fortunately, he felt himself slowly coming back to the warmth and dim haze of Hana’s home. He knew he was returning, because he could smell the familiar scent of Trevor and Sypha nearby, and the rotten pungency of the herbs in the censer. His eyes were dry, as though he had not blinked in several long minutes. The barest light felt like it was burning his retinas and his head ached fiercely. His claws were buried deeply in Hana’s tabletop; sunk for purchase. Every muscle in his body was tense and hardened. His jaws were so tight he could scarcely swallow, and when he did thirst roared and demanded to be sated, his fangs incredibly sensitive, aching sorely into his sinuses. His skin tingled strangely, the sensations of his clothing touching him feeling too much, almost painful.

“Adrian?” it was Sypha’s voice, and he felt her hand brush his arm gently. He jumped at the unexpected contact, his hands tightening their grip on the table; the surface formed a long vertical crack at his movement. He tried to relax, not wanting to destroy the furniture any further than he already had.

He wished to speak, but all that came from him was a grunt – it was the most he could manage just yet.

His noise was echoed by a small moan, which came from the figure of Hana, rigid in her chair across from him and trembling, her brow coated in sweat, her small misshapen hand clutching desperately at the black amulet she wore around her neck. Here eyes were squeezed shut in pain. She moaned again, her jaws gritting, lips pulled back to show her teeth, the skin of her neck tight and her heartbeat rabbiting far too quickly behind her ribs.

Slowly, the remnants of the visions cleared and Adrian felt a little more in charge of himself. He blinked, finally, the small flecks of blue and silver still incredibly alluring to his eyes, but he was able to pull away from them now, and not get dragged into another vision. He reached for the censer and opened it, grabbing the bundle of smoking herbs in his bare hand and smothering them with his palm, the faint scent of his own flesh singeing wafting up for a second. His skin was warm and he felt like his magic wasn’t far from the surface, as though it might erupt at any moment.

“Open a window,” he grit out, wiping his soiled hand on his pants.

Trevor had woken at some point, which made Adrian wonder exactly how long they had been sitting at the table. The fat candle was filled with a large pool of melted wax, so it must have been some time. At Adrian’s request, Trevor moved across the room to open the window closest to the table, eyeing him openly as he did. It was a relief to see his handsome, mostly unmarred face once more, both eyes a clear blue that he knew well, and both his arms properly intact.

“You okay?” he asked, coming to stand at the dhampir’s right side after the window was ajar.

Adrian’s head was pounding. The muscles in his neck and back were sore from being tensed for far too long. His fangs were exquisitely sensitive and his jaws felt like he’d been biting down as hard as he could for an hour without relenting. He was incredibly thirsty; his tongue felt like a wad of cotton in his mouth, which tasted terrible, for that matter, like he’d eaten something vile.

Part of him wanted to seek out water, and another part of him was still reeling from the immersive series of visions and didn’t think he could move yet. He was also rather concerned for Hana, who was in clear distress, still tense in her chair and breathing too quickly.

Adrian forced himself to take a slow breath, consciously unlocking his jaws. It took some effort – his body was wound like a spring and he knew the strange herbs and the tonic he’d ingested were still having an effect, making everything seem too bright, too loud, and leading his focus astray to the distracting colours and movements in the room around him. He felt as though his hold on reality was tentative at best, like he was still partly submerged within a dream. He tried not to let himself get too pulled into the movements of the flame of the beeswax candle, still flickering in the center of the table.

The cold air which filtered in from the open window helped a lot. He breathed it deeply, his head clearing more as the moments passed. He felt Trevor’s hand thread into his hair, stroking it soothingly. He nodded belatedly in answer to the hunter’s inquiry on his well being. He was alright, just trying to regain his bearings after the whole experience. “Can I have some water?” he asked, and Trevor went to retrieve a glass for him, which he downed quickly, swishing it around to clear the awful taste out of his mouth.

Sypha rose and went to Hana’s side, slipping a hand around her shoulders. “Hana, it’s alright. Try to breathe more slowly,” she urged, rubbing the frail shoulders with her hands. She glanced at Adrian as she did this, frowning. “Maybe you should go outside for awhile,” she suggested, pulling her chair closer to the old woman’s so she could sit beside her.

“I’ll go with you,” Trevor said, eyeing their host with a measure of irritation. “I guess she needs a break from your vampire vibes,” he muttered, although he looked on Adrian with affection, tugging at his arm to get him to stand.

The blonde allowed himself to be guided out of the warm, hazy room, stopping in the entrance for his boots, although he didn’t bother with a coat. Trevor grabbed his fur and tossed it over his own shoulders and together they exited out the front door into the chill night.

The moon was waxing into a near half circle, and it bathed everything in soft, cold light. The sky was dotted with a few clouds, and frost had settled into the ground, painting everything in a thin coating of sparkling, icy dust. The remnants of whatever Hana had used to make him see the visions made the twinkling brightness a little overwhelming. It was still hard to focus his eyes. He wished for darkness, so it was with appreciation and relief that he followed Trevor into the barn where there were no lights except what filtered through the cracks in the walls.

Once they were inside, Adrian leaned against the door and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of hay and animals and Trevor, who still had the lingering odour of ale on his breath. His sweat and familiar, personal scent were exactly what Adrian needed to help ground himself. He pulled Trevor against his body, pushed his fur cloak out of the way and buried his face against the crook of his neck, resting there for a moment, his arms wrapped loosely around the hunter’s torso beneath his cloak.

Trevor began to fidget against him after a minute, but Adrian stayed as he was, eyes closed, listening to his partner’s body and breath. The beating of his heart was distracting, as was the sound of his blood rushing beneath his skin. Adrian made himself ignore it.

He was still remembering the vivid images the visions had revealed to him. There had been too much blood, and magic, and the disconcerting interaction with the pool in the castle had left him extremely thirsty. But there had also been so many other elements, including the very dismal, foreboding future which seemed bleak and miserable for not only the three of them, but all of Wallachia – human and vampire alike.

It was impossible to forget the versions he’s seen of himself, Trevor, and Sypha, hardened by time and endless fighting. Their beauty had been overshadowed by the scars of a life of constant conflict, and there was no joy or pleasure in any of them, even though they were together. Adrian hadn’t seen enough to understand the context of their relationship, however, he did not like what the visions had alluded to. He couldn’t shake the picture of himself as he had been, shrouded in darkness and flanked by night creatures. If felt sinister, and made him think of what Hana had said to him earlier, when they were alone in the kitchen:

“ _Each of us has potential to change through our own choices and actions. All of you would do well to remember that. I believe that even Dracula was once pure of heart, or, at the very least, human, and innocent.”_

Her message felt nearly prophetic in light of what he’d seen. Would he choose or do something that would alter his ‘goodness?’ Was that the reason Hana wanted him to see the visions in the first place? To warn him of that? To stop it from happening?

Maybe the future he’d glimpsed was due to the death of his father? Maybe they were not supposed to kill him after all? Adrian had difficulty seeing how the world in his vision was at all preferable to the fate Wallachia faced at present. It was almost as bad, he thought. Maybe worse, in that so many suffered with no perceptible end in sight, and whatever force resided within the castle seemed to warp and corrupt all in its vicinity until they were perpetually preoccupied with greed and conflict.

It was awful. Horrific. Adrian didn’t know what to do, what he could possibly do to stop that from coming to be. They _had_ to kill his father, but it looked like doing so wouldn’t solve the whole problem. It seemed that the castle itself was the greater source of evil, and it corrupted Adrian as much as anyone else. The only one who appeared immune or resistant to it was Dracula.

In the first vision, he had obviously maintained some measure of control over the overwhelming intensity of the ‘heart’ of the castle. When he’d risen from the stone sarcophagus, the chaotic energy had dimmed. Its voice in Adrian’s mind had quieted considerably, almost to nothing. Dracula clearly had some kind of method of keeping it in check, or he would have gone mad long before Lisa’s untimely death. Adrian knew his father wasn’t crazy, even if he was lacking in moral fiber at times. He was rational, intelligent, logical. He was a scientist as much as he was a leader, and as far as Adrian knew he always had been until losing his wife broke him. He held the solution – that much was certain – but it was doubtful he would ever reveal it, even to his own son.

He didn’t know for certain that the things he’s seen were actually prophetical in nature; it was possible that they were only delusions brought on by magic and hallucinogenic substances. It was possible that they were entirely false and misleading – there was no way to be certain. Hana seemed genuine enough, but he couldn’t necessarily trust her. She could be an enemy, or just a crazy old lady. His gut told him that she wasn’t either of those things, but he was loath to trust his senses in this matter. The stakes were too high – Wallachia could not afford for him to do the wrong thing.

Adrian knew he needed to figure out the answers to his questions, or the miserable future which he’d glimpsed with far too much clarity could be all that lay ahead of him.

Presently, however, it was too much to think about, and he needed to reassure himself that he still had a chance to make his own path, rather than follow the one he’d seen in the visions. He curled against Trevor and felt himself held in strong arms, felt the beat of a healthy, powerful heart beneath his lips, which still rested on Trevor’s skin.

“Hey,” the hunter said gently. “Do you want to talk about what you saw?”

Adrian shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured.

“It was fucking freaky to watch,” Trevor volunteered, shifting so he could look into Adrian’s face. “I guess I fell asleep earlier, but I woke up when Hana started moaning and holding her head. I had no idea what was going on, it looked like she was having some kind of attack. Sypha filled me in a little, but she was busy keeping the spell going. You were… weird.”

Adrian blinked at Trevor, giving him time to elaborate.

“You were really tense, gripping the table too hard, your nails were fucking up the wood. You were looking into that bowl of water with the rocks in it, but you didn’t blink. You didn’t move. Not at _all_. The muscles in your neck and arms were flexed. Your back was rigid. Even your jaw was tight. I don’t think you were breathing much. Your eyes were fucked up. They still kinda are, or at least they were before we came out here. The black part was really wide, staring into the water, but not reacting to anything in the room. And the bit that wasn’t black was red, like when you use magic. Like now, actually. It’s dark as shit in here but I can see them. You sure you’re alright?” Trevor gave Adrian a concerned expression, his fingers finding their way to the point of his chin so he could tilt the blonde’s face towards his own.

“I’m… not,” he admitted, looking away and disentangling himself from Trevor. When he spoke his voice came out barely above a whisper. “What Hana said about killing my father not being enough… she may have been right. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. What _I’m_ supposed to do. I have never put much stock in things such as destiny or fate. The future cannot be predetermined, it is contradictory to science. Now… I am no longer certain that is true. I don’t know if we can change the things I saw or if they are absolute. I need to think about what it all means, but right now I don’t want to think,” he leaned back, resting his head against the reassuring hardness of the door and closing his eyes, his palms sliding against the worn wood behind him. “I don’t want to think about anything.”

He could feel Trevor’s eyes on him in the dark. “She wouldn’t have showed you those things if there was nothing we could do to change them,” the hunter stepped closer to him, his outstretched hand brushing Adrian’s cheek, sliding into his hair. “Destiny is a crock. It’s bullshit. You’re not a slave to some predetermined future. Make your own future.”

Trevor’s fingers fit against the base of Adrian’s skull, cupping his head. He began to massage the area, working down until he was gripping the back of the blonde’s neck in his large, warm palm, playing the muscles there with strong fingers.

The firm touch was appreciated, but Adrian’s head was still aching and his whole shoulder and neck area felt incapable of relaxing. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” he said, remembering the disturbing version of himself at the top of the castle, overseeing a world torn asunder. The idea that he had any part in that was sickening. He knew it was going to be extremely difficult to admit it aloud when the time to discuss the visions came.

“You don’t have to think about it right now,” Trevor assured him, his stubbled chin brushing Adrian’s smooth one as he moved closer, his other hand joining in the relaxing manipulation of his shoulders and neck. With two hands gripping and rubbing the knots from his muscles, Adrian found he was able to begin to calm a bit. He felt Trevor’s lips pressing gently to his own and he offered no resistance, letting Trevor deposit kisses as he pleased. He moved on and placed another at the corner of his lips, then his chin, and two on the angle of his jaw.

“All the shit will still be there later. You can worry then. Seeing that town burnt to shit, walking through an invisible magic wall, and hallucinating the future is enough for one day. Let it go for now, Adrian. There’s nothing you can do about any of it tonight.”

Trevor laid his body against Adrian’s, crushing him into the door of the barn, their chests flush, their hips close, and Trevor’s mouth followed Adrian’s jawline back towards his ear, leaving small kisses as he went. The hands working his neck moved lower, until Trevor was gripping his shoulders and upper arms. He relaxed, his shoulders sagging into the warm grip, yielding to his lover’s touch.

He felt breath tickling his ear and then Trevor’s lips were on his neck, on the spot just below his ear behind the curve of his jaw. He was kissed there too, and he reciprocated the action, finding the muscled column of the hunter’s neck and bringing his lips to it, tasting his sweat and inhaling his scent greedily. Then there were teeth on his skin, nipping him far more gently than he expected from the man who was pinning his body against the door. Usually Trevor was forceful with such actions, but presently he employed more consideration. It was going a long way to distracting Adrian from his worries, and he brought his hands up beneath the fur cloak once more, feeling the planes of Trevor’s back through his shirt.

Adrian sucked at the skin of his partner’s throat, leaving a small mark behind which would undoubtedly flower into a lovely little bruise. He opened his mouth, carefully grazing the flesh with his lips and fangs. They throbbed all the way into his head, saliva collecting and forcing him to pull back so he could swallow it.

Trevor stilled against him at the touch of teeth, his hands on Adrian’s shoulders sliding lower as he pulled back slightly. Adrian blinked at him, every detail of his face easily revealed despite the darkness. The cold blue of the man’s eyes was striking; it bored into him with all the intensity that Adrian had come to expect from the hunter.

They looked at one another for a moment, and something in Trevor’s eyes shifted, deepening. He leaned his head against the blonde’s, so their foreheads touched. He brought a hand up and brushed Adrian’s hair, fingers lingering in between the soft strands. His other encircled his waist and pulled their bodies close together again. The bits of his bangs which always hung in his face tickled Adrian’s skin.

“I think,” Trevor began slowly. His heartbeat grew fast and loud between them. “You can do it now,” he said in a voice so low it was mostly a rumble in his chest. “If you want to,” he added.

Adrian was taken quite by surprise. He thought knew what Trevor meant, though he wondered what could have prompted him to say it now, of all the seemingly random times. He shifted so he could see the man’s face, and arched a brow. “Now?”

“Uh, yeah. Now is good,” there was a sort of sheepish embarrassment on Trevor’s face, his cheeks warming marginally as he looked to the side. “It’s been over a week, right?”

Adrian found himself smirking at Trevor’s uncharacteristic, bashful demeanor. He supposed he should commit it to memory, because it was unlikely to last. “It has, but you’ve never paid attention to that before,” he mused aloud, a hint of teasing sneaking into his tone. It felt familiar, safe.

Trevor shrugged against him. “I suppose I’m getting used to having a dhampir around,” he said nonchalantly. “And I pay attention. I notice your eyes, or your body language.”

Adrian thought he’d always done a fairly good job of keeping any signs of hunger to himself, but he knew Trevor was observant, and wasn’t terribly surprised at his declarations. This evening in particular, with the strange things he’d experienced, he hadn’t made any real effort to conceal how thirsty he was after the vision experience. After all, he didn’t need to hide such things any longer. Trevor and Sypha accepted him, even if it felt a bit surreal at times. He pressed a kiss to Trevor’s mouth and lingered there, sucking gently at the full lower lip and taking it between his teeth, allowing the sharp points of his fangs to press into it _almost_ hard enough to pierce flesh.

As expected, the hunter sucked his breath in sharply and tensed all over, but he made no move to pull away.

“Christ,” he breathed once Adrian released his lip, his body trembling almost imperceptibly. Adrian watched his partner squirm, savouring the way his heart was hammering obtusely in his chest and appreciating the rare blush on his face.

Several moments passed, filled only with the sound of their mingled breath and Trevor’s heart.

“Well, do you want it or not? Don’t just fucking stare at me,” Trevor snapped nervously, fingers digging into the skin over his hip a little too hard.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a certain… way with words, Belmont?” Adrian teased, flashing his teeth in the dark. “Very eloquent.”

“Oh shut up,” the hunter muttered, stung. “Just forget I said anything.”

Adrian nosed his cheek apologetically. “If you’re still uneasy, why did you offer?” he asked more seriously.

Trevor’s too-tight grip relaxed a little. “Fuck, Adrian, I don’t know. It seemed like the right time. I’ve been thinking of it since we talked about it before. It always makes you feel good, and whatever you saw tonight is obviously weighing on your mind. I thought it might be a good distraction. That, and it’s just us at the moment… I’d rather if she wasn’t here for it. Syph, I mean. I- uh- I don’t want her to see.”

He took pause to absorb what Trevor was saying, eyes studying him carefully, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt beneath the fur cloak. “She didn’t mind you being there the times I bit her,” he pointed out.

Trevor snorted sharply, his face twisting into a scowl as he stepped away from Adrian, hands balling into fists. “Yeah, well, she’s used to living with all her Speaker buddies up her ass and doesn’t have any fucking boundaries sometimes. It’s already fucked up enough that I’m actually volunteering… I don’t know if I could go through with it if she were watching.” He faced the dhampir, bristling. “Is that a problem? You need a fucking audience?”

Adrian knew Trevor was being abrasive because he was anxious, and he didn’t take the rudeness to heart. “No,” he said gently.

He moved closer to Trevor and placed his hands over the hunter’s until he felt the fists uncurl and loosen, then he threaded them into Trevor’s hair in a similar fashion to how Trevor had touched him a few minutes ago. He worked his fingers into the clean dark strands, rubbing the hunter’s scalp, his ears, and the back of his neck. He slid downwards to his shoulders.

“Just relax,” he encouraged, although it was fairly clear that relaxation was far from his partner’s mind. Trevor’s muscles were bunched and coiled like a snake on the verge of striking. “It will hurt a lot if you are tense like this,” he explained, giving Trevor’s upper arms a light squeeze.

“I can take it,” he bit out tersely.

Adrian exhaled softly, trying to meet the hunter’s eyes despite the lack of light. “I’m sure you can, but I would rather it wasn’t overly painful for you. It won’t be like before, you know that, don’t you?” as he asked, his fingers found their way to the man’s thick shoulder beneath his cloak, coming to rest over the area where his deep vampire bite scar marred his skin. “I would never do something like this.”

He was answered with an irritated noise of exasperation and a hand yanking his fingers away from the old injury. “Jesus, stop talking about it and just get it over with!”

Trevor may want to simply ‘get it over with,’ but Adrian wished to take his time, to allow himself to appreciate the experience, which was slowly becoming more comfortable to him. He couldn’t deny that there was something thrilling about the wild fear wafting from his partner, something which provoked his instincts, but he endeavoured to balance his natural reaction with consideration for the fact that Trevor had been on the receiving end of a terrible bite once before, and was essentially forcing himself to submit to this, unlike Sypha, who had actually wanted the experience. He wouldn’t go through with it while Trevor was in such an acute state of agitation, no matter how thirsty he was.

“Why don’t we find a place to sit down, so it’s more comfortable?” Adrian suggested, peering around the unfamiliar space in search of a good spot.

The lofted hay mow took up two thirds of the barn’s upper area and was stocked with dry bales of both hay and straw, and would likely be the most comfortable. A little bit of moonlight filtered in through the owl hole, and at least one of the creatures was in residence, perched silently where it could overlook the entire space for unsuspecting rodents. Adrian curled his fingers around Trevor’s, tugging him deeper inside the barn, where there was a vertical ladder which allowed one to access the loft through a square aperture in the floor.

“There is more light in the loft,” he said, guiding Trevor’s hands to either side of the ladder. A small amount of moonlight illuminated the square at the top where he could climb through. Adrian jumped up effortlessly, earning himself a grumble from his partner. He peered down through the square, watching Trevor scale the ladder.

Trevor’s shape was outlined in the cool wash of moonlight as he emerged into the loft, giving his skin an odd, ethereal tinge. He didn’t need any guidance to find his way to an open area near the middle of the space where they could get more comfortable. He took off his cloak and thew it down.

“I’m never going to get all the hay out of the fur,” he griped, sitting on the large white skin.

“I could get one of our blankets from the cart,” Adrian offered, but Trevor just waved the idea away.

“It’s fine,” his hand went to his neck. “I guess nobody will be looking at my cloak when I’ve got a big bruised vampire bite to divert their attention,” he mused, rubbing as though he already sported such a mark.

Adrian sank down beside him on the fur. “I probably won’t, no,” he agreed with a small smile, eyeing the area openly, thinking about what Trevor would look like with the mark of teeth on his neck. The frantic beating of his heart was already a din in Adrian's ears, but now he focused on it, allowing his instincts to come to the fore, his claws to extend, his sclerae to colour fully. He was excited, anticipating the new experience, considering how Trevor might taste, how he would differ from Sypha. She was so much more petite and soft all over, while Trevor was close in height to Adrian himself, but more heavily built, hairier, and of course scarred and calloused and generally rough. His mouth watered at the prospect of being filled with the powerful hunter’s blood.

Adrian shifted closer, moving behind Trevor and slipping an arm around his shoulders. He nuzzled the nape of Trevor’s neck, feeling the shorter hairs there with his lips.

“You smell really good,” he admitted, pressing closer so he could wrap his arms around Trevor’s chest.

Trevor grunted. He was obviously still uncomfortable; he resisted being pulled back, and didn’t want to relax. Adrian had an urge to tighten his arms and just tug him into place as he pleased, but he knew the hunter would not appreciate any kind of restraint. Instead, he loosened his grasp and rested his chin on Trevor’s shoulder, leaning against him and stroking his arms lightly, running his claws harmlessly over the skin.

“You’re too worked up.”

“Well, maybe I should get some more of Hana’s ale then, because I don’t think I can do better than this without it,” Trevor stared at the small rectangular owl hole, his expression unreadable.

An awkward silence fell between them. Adrian sighed, trying to ignore the twinge in his fangs when he inhaled and air brushed over them. He wished this were as easy as it had been with Sypha; she had been far more calm, and obviously more willing. Despite Trevor actually offering it, Adrian didn’t feel like he wanted to follow through. He watched the hunter fiddle with a piece of straw, twisting it and folding it over itself in his fingers.

“Do you want to lay down?” he asked quietly.

“No,” The other man answered quickly. “I… don’t want to be- you know- uh, in a position like that. Helpless.”

Adrian could hear Trevor’s teeth grinding and his heart still drumming quickly. He rose on impulse and strode to the wall, below the owl hole. He unlatched the large door which was used to load hay into the loft, letting it swing open. Moonlight and cold, fresh air rushed in, and the view of the world beyond Hana’s property stretched before them. To Adrian’s dismay, the castle was visible to the far right, just barely contained within the image framed by the doorway.

The rest, however, was all the foothills, rolling and pitching ever more steeply as they crept higher towards the base of the actual mountains themselves, which were grey and white with snow. The leaves were mostly gone from the deciduous trees, their branches stretching upwards like clawed appendages. The conifers scattered between them cast beautiful and eerie silhouettes, occasionally jutting out from the rest at odd angles. The scene didn’t look like a world besieged by evil and fire – it was picturesque, especially with innumerable stars twinkling in the sky above, broken only by the occasional cloud and the cold countenance of the mountains.

Adrian knew that humans couldn’t see as well as he could, but he hoped that Trevor could see most of what lay before them – all the little details of the night that made him feel an inexplicable sense of freedom. He felt better, more relaxed, and sat on the hay at the edge of the doorway, his legs dangling over the edge and swinging absently in the open air.

After a moment, he heard Trevor getting up, shaking the hay from his cloak, and the hunter came and sat beside him, the heat of his body a sharp contrast to the cold night. Adrian scooted closer to him, lacing their fingers together. He knew the man was calming, finally, because his heart no longer sounded like it was attempting to escape from his chest and his body was less rigid. Adrian pulled the edge of the cloak so it was over both their shoulders, enveloping them in a pocket of warmth. It was covered in bits of hay.

He sighed and leaned against Trevor. A warm, well-muscled arm came around his body and Adrian turned to look at the handsome face of the last living Belmont. Trevor looked gorgeous washed in moonlight, the angles of his face highlighted, his eyes seeming brighter than they normally did. They sat for a couple of minutes, comfortably quiet.

Eventually, Adrian’s appetite urged him forward. Trevor’s offer was too tempting to pass up, and after all they had discussed, small feedings more often was exactly what they were testing out – it had been doing wonders for the dhampir thus far, suffice to say he was looking forward to the next one with relish.

He crawled onto Trevor’s lap, straddling him face to face with a knee on either side of his thighs. The cloak slipped from his shoulders, but he didn’t mind the cold anyhow. He ran his claws along the side of Trevor’s face carefully, trailing them along his neck and down his chest over his shirt. He could feel the layers of musculature twitch slightly beneath his touch. He could see the web of vessels which branched outward beneath the skin, inviting Adrian in despite himself.

“Trevor,” he said, voice low and rough, betraying his desire. He could not ignore the heat and scent of the body beneath his own, and being so close to Trevor was making him react with more than only hunger now that they were more relaxed and there was less awkwardness between them.

“Yeah?” the hunter answered him, meeting his reddened eyes.

“I want to bite you,” Adrian admitted, ears burning at actually saying the words. “Could I?”

He saw Trevor swallow, Adam’s apple moving up and down as he did, drawing Adrian's focus back to his neck. He nodded, growing more tense again, but not quite as much as before.

“Y-yeah,” he managed to get out, hands finding their way to Adrian’s hips and resting there, sliding along his rear and gripping it reflexively.

Adrian closed the distance between their faces, one hand on Trevor’s chest still, curled slightly so the points of his claws rested over the damp skin, and the other wound around the back of his partners neck. His fingers slid into the short hairs there and cupped the base of his skull.

He brushed his lips over Trevor’s, his own heart pounding now with anticipation that he was _finally_ going to know what his lover’s blood tasted like. He felt little electric tingles over his skin, a measure of arousal curling through his stomach, and he nearly trembled at the sensation of their proximity.

His teeth were painfully sensitive; the brush of them on Trevor’s lips made him shiver and grow bolder, and he bit down on the hunter’s bottom lip without warning, letting his teeth slice into the plump flesh, creating two punctures which immediately began to bleed freely between them. Part of him was simply impatient, and another part of him thought such an action would break the ice and make the whole thing less comparable to when Trevor had been attacked. You don’t kiss someone who’s trying to kill you.

“Shit,” Trevor mumbled, pulling back and touching his mouth in surprise, twin rivulets of blood running down his chin. Adrian caught them before they could drip onto his shirt, licking one quickly away, then the other. He pulled Trevor’s lip into his mouth and sucked at the wounds, playing his tongue against them and feeling the twisting heat in his belly grow more intense.

It was surreal to him that they could share this, and the sheer pleasure of tasting Trevor’s blood had Adrian growing partly erect despite himself, his hips rolling against Trevor’s unconsciously. The taste was so different from Sypha that he struggled to find any similarity. It was like red wine compared to white. Both wine, but that was where the similarity ended. Of course, no wine he’d ever tasted could hold a candle to either.

Trevor’s taste was like his scent – heady, sharp – he was intense and wild. His blood had a violent sort of bite to it that Adrian hadn’t expected. He wondered if it was because he was a Belmont, if their whole family line tasted that way. He didn’t care about the reason. It didn’t matter. It was incredible, and it was _his_ and nobody else would ever _dare_ lay a finger on this man save Sypha. Even in the awful visions of the future, one thing was certain; Trevor and Sypha were _his._

Adrian growled into Trevor’s mouth, grounding himself down onto his hips and sliding his tongue between bloody lips. Their tongues moved together, the kiss growing deeper, the two wounds leaving a mess of blood on both their faces. When Adrian pulled back Trevor was breathing hard and he smelled like arousal and defiance and perhaps still a little fear laced into all of it, though it was diminishing. It only served to make Adrian feel more unhinged, like he was coming undone somehow.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Trevor touched his mouth again. Adrian watched him, transfixed by the image of his essence smeared around his lips and chin and still oozing from the cuts, the enticing scent hovering on both their breath. Trevor glanced away, looking at his hand “This is really weird,” he said, peering at his stained fingertips. “It tastes like metal. I don’t know how you can enjoy that. Is it- uh- I mean- is it good? Is it what you were expecting?”

Adrian had to force himself to think of something other than sinking his fangs someplace that would bleed far more before he could formulate a verbal response. The same thing had happened to him with Sypha – it was instinctive to abandon speech in these moments and rely on more primitive means of communication, but he forced himself to speak.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said affectionately, laving Trevor’s fingers clean. “It’s perfect. I am not sure I can explain what you taste like to me, however. I could try. Very different from Sypha – sharper, I suppose. More… ferocious,” he smiled at his own words, teeth stained red. “I suppose that doesn’t make much sense.”

The wide grin that Adrian knew so well appeared on Trevor’s face in return. “You’re right, that doesn’t make any sense,” he said, one hand cupping Adrian’s face, his thumb playing over his cheek, tentatively dragging over Adrian’s bottom lip. He closed his eyes and let himself be touched. The digit brushed the tip on one of his fangs, causing him to suck in a quick breath, his jaw tensing as the incredibly sensitive area was prodded curiously.

“You can feel that? Through your teeth? I thought it was just the gums around them that were sensitive,” the hunter commented as he ran the pad of his thumb over the razor edge of Adrian’s canine.

Adrian bit him.

“Ow! Fuck!” Trevor jerked his hand back, glaring reproachfully.

Adrian snorted. “Of course I can feel it,” he said, unapologetic. “I’m surprised you don’t know more about vampire physiology, since your family was so fond of experimenting on us and dissecting our corpses,” he snatched Trevor’s hand easily and sucked on the small, shallow wound. When he’d cleaned away the few drops of blood it had to offer he kissed the injured thumb before letting the other man pull it back to himself. “Teeth have nerves in them Trevor, even human teeth. The nerves in our fangs are simply more thoroughly developed, and therefore more sensitive. So yes, I can feel things through them.”

Trevor’s brows formed a little crease at the middle, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Huh. So what does it feel like? When they’re touched, I mean. Or when you bite someone?”

Adrian dipped his head so he could kiss Trevor again, enjoying the blood which had welled up on his wounded lip while they were talking. Trevor’s tongue tentatively slid along the flat of one of his teeth, which made Adrian shiver and try to get closer, a low growl in his throat. They kissed more deeply before pulling apart. This time it was Adrian who was panting and breathless.

“It’s- it feels good,” he managed. “When they’re touched it stimulates feeding response. It triggers salivation, strong thirst, and a bite reflex. So if you do that again, I will bite you.”

“What, this?” Trevor said audaciously, kissing him and playing his tongue over Adrian’s fangs again.

True to his word, Adrian bit him, this time on the tongue. He knew it would hurt, and would bleed more. It served him right. Trevor was expecting it though, and didn’t pull away this time. Their mouths worked against one another, and Adrian could smell Trevor becoming aroused. For a guy who was terrified of vampire bites, he certainly seemed to be enjoying the experience. Straddling his lap, Adrian could feel him growing firm in his breeches.

The wound on his tongue was bleeding freely, and Trevor’s whole mouth tasted of it now. Adrian was given free reign to explore the area, which he took full advantage of, sliding his tongue against the puncture repeatedly to appreciate its texture and to take any blood which welled from it. When he could bring himself to pull away, his own cheeks were flushed and his lips were slicked in red. He felt Trevor’s hand in his hair, stroking his head.

“Jesus, you are so gorgeous,” the hunter said, voice rough. His hips shifted, causing their bodies to rub together. Adrian shuddered, chewing his lip.

“If you want to keep that shirt you should take it off,” he suggested, tugging at the hem of Trevor’s tunic, already stained by a drop of red, but still salvageable. Things were getting messier as the minutes ticked by.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” the hunter complied as Adrian’s fingers relieved him of his cloak, which ended up splayed on the hay behind him. He slid his tunic over his head and tossed it to safety. Adrian removed his own shirt, the white linen still clean.

Chests bare, Adrian felt Trevor’s hot hands running over his body, following the angles and planes indulgently with his fingers. Adrian dragged his hands along Trevor’s bare chest, claws passing over the network of scars which marred it, some deep, some shallow. The very large one over his sternum was the most obvious, the skin white and nearly bloodless in that spot. He traced it, and it reminded him of the area he would soon have another – his temple. His fingertip followed the gash Trevor had sustained several days prior, which was healing well, and had only a small scab over it now, the skin around it pink and new. It frightened him to think of how fragile his humans actually were, and it made him want to wrap his arms around the man and gather him close, but he refrained.

Trevor, in turn, explored the areas where Adrian’s body still showed faint reminders of his ordeal in the cage. Adrian cringed involuntarily when Trevor’s hand slowed so he could touch the marks on his chest, then his stomach. He grew stiff and pulled back, sitting straighter and pushing Trevor’s hands away.

“Don’t,” he said said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Trevor moved on, hand coming to rest on Adrian’s thigh instead. “They’re almost gone,” he said, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. “I can hardly feel them anymore.”

Adrian just looked down and to the side, struggling to push the unpleasant memories away. He could feel the edge of panic closing in on him, and he desperately wanted to distract himself from it before it swallowed him. He’d thought he was past that – he’d had many experiences with Trevor and Sypha since the cage, but apparently it wasn’t so easy to simply forget such traumatic events.

A few more moments of silence filled the hay mow, but soon Trevor was touching Adrian’s arms lightly, carding his fingers through long blonde hair, and trying to pull him closer for a kiss.

It helped a great deal, and slowly, the cold edge receded, and Adrian found himself once more focused on the attractive figure he was straddling, and on the sensation of their bodies together.

“You were going to tell me what it feels like for you when you bite,” Trevor said, breaking the heavy silence that had rolled over them, and continuing his small touches, lightly tracing the musculature of Adrian’s arms.

It was a good distraction, one which successfully redirected the dhampir’s attention back to the present. He studied Trevor for a moment, considering how to respond as he eyed the vessels in his throat, listening to his blood rush temptingly beneath the flesh. “Are you certain you want to know about that?” he queried, arching a brow.

“They way I see it, I’m living with a dhampir, sleeping beside you, letting you drink my blood, and with any luck I’ll be fucking you soon, so yes, I am certain that I want to understand what the big deal is about it. You would think it was more documented – as you said, my family was pretty dedicated to figuring vampires out, but I don’t think anybody cared to ask one about that. Pretty sure they were just looking for better ways to kill you. But I want to know, Adrian. Explain it to me. If your fangs are so sensitive then it must feel really good, right?” as he spoke, Trevor was growing more confident, his comfort with the situation markedly increased. His eyes were blatantly watching Adrian’s mouth, and he poked at the long canine teeth experimentally, earning himself a new bite, this time on his roving finger. He winced, but submitted to having the resulting slice attended to by Adrian’s lips and tongue.

When he was finished with the finger, Adrian lowered Trevor’s hand and touched his chest. “I’ve never tried to define it before,” he mused, contemplating his partner’s strong heartbeat beneath his palm. “From an anatomical standpoint, the nerves in our fangs are connected deeply with our entire nervous system. They stimulate both the feeding response I mentioned before, as well as pleasure. Sensation in them can also occur on its own from hunger. When I’m very thirsty, they ache here,” he gestured to his face, tracing a path upwards through his sinus and past his eyes to his temples, indicating where he felt it. “They become very sensitive, even the air moving over them can be hard to tolerate,” he realized that he felt that now to some extent, and it was increasing as he talked about it, because it was making him thirstier.

“It hurts?” Trevor asked, looking surprised.

“Yes. It’s a shooting, twinging pain, like if you strike a nerve, I suppose.”

“That sounds shitty.”

He nodded. “I suppose it is. It makes me irritable,” he added, continuing before Trevor had a chance make a joke out of that. “When I bite, it’s the opposite, everything feels good. As I said, anatomically, the nerves there connect into parts of the brain that sense pleasure, satisfaction, even euphoria. It can be overwhelming at times. It’s part of the reason vampires can lose themselves in feeding… it is an immense amount of sensory input.”

“And here I thought you were all just out of control animals,” Trevor teased.

Adrian gave him a wry smirk. “That isn’t far off the mark for some. Anyhow, all of that sensation is useful for the actual feeding process, as it aids in pinpointing the exact spot to bite down,” he slid his index finger along Trevor’s neck, pausing over the throb of his carotid pulse point, pressing his sharp nail against it in demonstration. “Here, for example, you have a large vessel which passes close enough to the surface of the skin that it can be accessed readily. It’s easy to identify,” he paused, watching the fluttering spot, knowing his eyes were darkening towards their most concentrated red even as the twinges of hunger he had just explained reverberated upwards from his teeth. He licked his lips.

“I can see it, hear it, and if I put my lips over the area I can feel the movement that way, but to bite accurately, I usually rely on my teeth,” he trailed off for a moment, the rhythm pulling him in and making it difficult to remember what the was talking about. He found himself leaning closer, inhaling Trevor’s scent and swallowing the excessive saliva which was produced right before biting.

“Uhm,” he mumbled, distracted. “Once they break… the skin, I can feel…” he trailed off, mouthing the area of Trevor’s throat he had been using as an example, his eyes closing as the loud drumming of his heart took precedence in his mind.

Trevor put a hand on Adrian’s shoulder, squeezing him a little. “Feel what?”

He dragged himself back to his explanation, wanting to finish, though he spoke into Trevor’s throat, and his hand was running along the area, tracing it. “Sorry. Feel the vessel itself. It’s necessary to- to control how deep…” he fell to distraction again, the topic of discussion making it nearly impossible to resist burying his fangs into Trevor’s neck. “Trevor, can I tell you the rest after?” he asked, finally abandoning his words. His attention was devoted to working his mouth down along Trevor’s throat, fingertips preoccupied by his pulse at several places close beneath his skin. Greedily, he wanted them all, but knew he could only pick one.

He sat back, surveying Trevor’s thickly built figure, following the outline of the large tendon in his neck. He eyed Trevor’s bloodstained mouth and the way his throat moved as he swallowed. He shivered.

“Adrian, just do it before I lose my fucking nerve.”

It didn’t take much encouraging. He leaned forward and ran his lips along the salty skin, finding the throb of the large artery in his neck once more. He opened his mouth and let his fangs touch the skin, testing it, dragging along it slowly before he found that spot where the throbbing pulse lined up perfectly with the tips of his exquisitely sensitive teeth.

He reminded himself that just because Trevor was bigger, more heavily made than Sypha, that did not mean that he could feed indiscriminately. He still had to adhere to the originally agreed upon format of ‘small meals,’ though the idea of restraint was decidedly unpalatable in the face of all he had just explained.

He felt Trevor’s fingers tighten powerfully on his thighs as he bit down, fangs sliding into the delicious and welcoming heat, piercing through layers of flesh. He had been exceedingly careful the previous two times, worried of his own potential to cause Sypha serious harm, but he was perhaps a bit less so now, impatient, and thirsty, and riled up by speaking at length on the specifics of his fangs and what it felt like to bite.

Before he could even finish finding the artery Trevor was gripping Adrian’s throat, squeezing tightly, his other hand digging into his thigh with his full strength. He was suddenly tense and was holding his breath.

A tiny sliver of his mind wondered if he was hurting Trevor badly, or if he should stop, but it was quickly overshadowed by instinct, and barring some direct and specific order for him to cease entirely, Adrian did not intend to cut his meal short. The first mouthful welled up around his teeth, which were still buried in Trevor’s neck. He shifted, causing them to dig in slightly, and release more blood into his waiting mouth.

“Ah, fuck. _FUCK!_ Shit that hurts…”

Trevor’s grip on his neck was unforgiving, seemingly instinctive, though he wasn’t actually trying to push Adrian off of him, nor was he struggling or attempting to gain freedom. That was good, because in the present position Adrian’s teeth would have slashed a much larger wound into him had he attempted to get away. The pressure of his hand might have strangled a human, but Adrian was unharmed by the grip, though it did feel uncomfortable, and he wanted to rip the hand off of his neck and pin it out of the way. He resisted.

As it was, Trevor’s hands tensed and dug in and Adrian felt his whole body going rigid like hardened iron, every muscle contracting at the pain and discomfort of being bitten. He slowly worked his teeth free, careful not to cause any more damage than he already had. The wound bled faster than the ones he’d made on Sypha. It was deeper, and Trevor’s blood filled his mouth so fast he almost couldn’t swallow quickly enough to catch it all.

It occurred to him that he may have bitten too hard, and he recognized that he needed to pay attention, keep watch that Trevor didn’t get dizzy or pass out on him.

Mostly, however, Adrian was completely absorbed in greedily swallowing the biting tang of Trevor’s essence, the heat of it and the sound of it rushing down his throat leaving him unhinged, lost in a wave of indulgence that he had rarely allowed himself in his life. The hand around his throat slowly loosened as Trevor’s tension dissolved, and shortly, Adrian found himself holding the man up in his arms, his body relaxing, his breathing coming more easily, and his groin shifting where Adrian was pressing into him. He felt hands in his hair, running through it and holding his head.

“It’s- mm- not as bad now,” Trevor mumbled against his hair, kissing it absently. “Feels… nice…”

Buzzing energy, arousal, and satisfaction were coursing through Adrian’s body, his skin hypersensitive where Trevor held him or touched him. He felt like he could stay this way indefinitely.

Gradually, the blood flow dissipated, the rush of it slowing to a trickle as he drank. The feeding experience was always that way – it felt like it went on and on, yet passed far too quickly, a moment he could capture but never quite hold onto. Before long, he knew he had to stop, so he contented himself to lave the bite attentively, no longer sealing his mouth around it or pulling from it. Tending the wound with such care brought him a different kind of satiety, soothing in its own way. He’d taken more than he’d intended, but it seemed he was still within safe territory. Although Trevor was obviously lulled, he did not seem at all woozy or incoherent.

Adrian laid him carefully onto his back, still sitting atop him. He surveyed his handiwork, eyes roving over his neck, the red-slicked mouth, the expression on his face, and the rising bulge between his legs. He preened, every part of his nature slaked by both the meal and the picture of Trevor laid out before him, vulnerable and trusting. A contented noise rumbled in his chest and he bent to clean Trevor’s neck again with his tongue, stretching out against him so they could lie together. Their feet were still sticking out of the barn, so he moved them easily into a better position, legs comfortably inside.

Adrian had no words for how good he felt at the moment, and he was more than happy to meticulously clean Trevor’s neck at regular intervals, and slide his hands over his skin, appreciating him contentedly, brushing his hair out of his face with tender fingers.

After a few minutes to recover, Trevor stirred. Adrian was lying half atop him, straddling one thigh, his head propped on his elbow, blonde hair fanned over them both in a wave. His free hand roamed over Trevor’s chest, tracing the various scars and marks, and he basked in the familiar, steady cadence of the strong heart at Trevor’s breast.

Adrian laid his head down and closed his eyes, feeling warm and happy. The hunter’s large hand stroked his hair, his back, and traced the lines of his body downward until Trevor was slipping his hand into the waist of Adrian’s pants and cupping his ass appreciatively.

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked from his position against Trevor’s chest, fingers curled against his pectoral. His voice was soft and quiet, not willing to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that had settled over them.

Trevor inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, his unoccupied hand finding its way to the dhampir’s and lacing their fingers together. “Yeah, I think so,” he said, his voice scratchy. “Maybe a little lightheaded.”

Adrian felt rather guilty for being so indulgent, but it was far away in the face of his overall sense of well being. He shifted back into his prior position, with his head propped on his hand so he could look at Trevor better. His fingers prodded the area he’d fed from, his stomach curling with heat at the evidence. It would bruise a good deal, and the marks were pretty deep, so they would take time to heal.

“I’m sorry I didn’t finish explaining,” he said apologetically. “It’s hard to talk about without getting-

“Distracted?” the hunter cut him off, shooting him a knowing look.

Adrian blushed, though it probably didn’t show through the flush that already painted his cheeks. “Yes.”

“You already explained a lot. I didn’t know most of that,” Trevor said, appearing reflective. “You look so healthy now, your skin is warm, your eyes are bright. Christ you are beautiful, even if you do have my blood all over your face. That part takes some getting used to,” he admitted, wiping at the corner of Adrian’s mouth.

“Did it hurt as much as you thought it would?” he asked, eyes flitting to the old scar on his shoulder. “Not as much as before, I hope.”

“No, not like that,” Trevor agreed quickly. “But it was hard to feel so… defenseless. Helpless. I didn’t mean to grab you like that; I couldn’t help it. It was automatic.”

“It’s alright. I thought maybe you wanted me to stop, but you didn’t push or say anything. You have a strong grip Trevor, if I were human that would have done some damage.”

The hunter laughed. “If you were human you wouldn’t have your teeth in my neck in the first place.”

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” he answered, smiling..

He dipped and kissed the hunter’s throat gently, breathing in the lovely blend of Trevor’s skin, his blood, and his sweat. He laid several chaste kisses over the injury, his tongue tracing over it to clean away any last drops of blood and to appreciate the sensation of the mark.

As he withdrew, he made his way to Trevor’s mouth, inching upwards along his body so they could kiss. His face was rosy and warm from feeding, but Trevor’s heat still soaked into him wonderfully, and made him want to stay tucked against him forever. He began to clean around his partner’s mouth, trying to erase the evidence that still coloured his lips and chin.

Trevor’s hand stilled him, fingers touching his lips with a measure of curiosity. “If someone had told me a year ago, or five or ten years ago, that I’d be doing this right now, I would have laughed at them. Maybe punched them in the face,” he said, the words laced with cynical humour. “But here I am,” he seemed like there was more to his statement, but he just followed the lines of Adrian’s mouth with his fingertips, his expression unreadable.

He pulled away from Trevor’s touch, eyeing him with a measure of suspicion. “Are you saying you regret this?”

There was a short pause, then the tension dissolved as Trevor laughed again, his wide mouth breaking into a genuine grin. “No, I’m not. But you can’t deny it’s kind of funny that we ended up like this. We’re supposed to be mortal enemies, not laying on top of each other half naked.”

Adrian tried to stifle his laugh at that and ended up snorting instead, and Trevor pulled him abruptly closer, curling his muscular arm securely around Adrian’s body, his hand splayed over his back, the other still on his ass.

“No, I don’t have a single regret. I will never know what a worthless drunk like me ever did to deserve you and Syph. I probably don’t, but I’m sure as shit not complaining. You’re both so… you’re both everything now. Fuck,” Trevor turned away, taking a deep breath, and Adrian watched him silently, sensing the strength of emotion he was attempting to hold back. He laid against him, giving him a chance to gather himself.

Trevor suddenly rolled them over so he was lying atop Adrian. He was fully erect, and he ground himself against his partner, lowering himself over Adrian’s chest and breathing into his ear. “I really need to fuck you,” he said in a raw, rough tone. His body trembled, his muscles tense, his hips moving again, making no secret of how aroused he was. “Please, Adrian. Let me feel you.”

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides* Sorry for ending it there, but it was getting stupidly long! 
> 
> I spent a good while thinking on how to show that vision experience; I even developed a detailed plan, which I never do. Those types of sequences can be tough to present, so hopefully it had the right effect.
> 
> Ah, finally Adrian and Trevor got a little alone time. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've made no secret of how much I love writing the bitey stuff...
> 
> Oh, and I am trying to come up with a new title for this work, because I am not sure the current one is still a good fit (let's be frank, it sucks), but I find that process to be far harder than writing the book itself. I have also decided to commission a piece of artwork as a cover for the book (even though it's only fanfiction), so that is in the works too! I'm pumped!
> 
> Pretty please drop me a review and let me know what you think!


	31. Part Thirty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually put chapter warnings, but this chapter is pretty smutty and graphic, so if you aren't into that sort of thing you may wish to skip it and wait until the next update. 
> 
> For all the rest of you, enjoy ;)

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-One**

Adrian let Trevor’s words ring through his head, stunned to stillness beneath him, frozen in inaction. _“I really need to fuck you,_ ” he’d said, eyes burning and serious, body hard all over, palms clammy and squeezing his with barely contained desire. He could feel it in every inch of his frame – need, want, a desperate grasping for control which he’d surrendered and now sought to reclaim.

He stared, still awash in sensation from his feeding and flush with heat. He was physically more pliable than any other time, entirely satiated and aroused by the blood he’d consumed. Trevor could not have picked a more opportune moment to convince him to submit to being taken. His skin tingled pleasantly where Trevor touched him, his hips twitched in reaction to the firm pressure against his thigh. The blood made him ready, and willing, yet there was unease that twinged at the direct statement Trevor made, and he found himself hesitating.

He wanted to do it _right n_ _ow?_ He’d only begun to seriously consider such sexual interaction recently – he still had reservations about what Trevor wanted from him, yet he wanted to share _something_ with him. Something that was deep and meaningful, and which would feel good for both of them, like it had with Sypha.

Trevor grabbed Adrian’s hands, pushing them into the fur cloak on either side of his head. Their fingers laced together and he squeezed hard, one knee parting the dhampir’s legs. He settled between them, his erection obtuse through his clothes. His teeth found Adrian’s ear and bit sharply. “Take your pants off,” he ordered, his voice low and urgent. Adrian knew that his rationality was being swayed by how deliciously _good_ he felt at the moment. His skin prickled with gooseflesh when Trevor’s breath caressed his ear, the wave spreading across his neck and chest. It made his nipples stand up, and he felt himself responsive to even the slightest touches.

“Trevor…” he managed, trying to organize his thoughts. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You should drink something. Eat, and rest.”

The hunter waved away his concern, hands tightening. “I don’t give a shit about any of that. I need you. Now. I can’t… Jesus, _please,_ ” he bit out, expression twisting uncomfortably as he loomed over Adrian’s form, chest heaving as though from exertion.

The dhampir peered at the man above him, studying his eyes, replaying what they’d discussed regarding sex before. It didn’t amount to much, and really, he had little more than a vague understanding of what would transpire. On the other hand, he suspected that Trevor was unused to feeling as powerless as he had when Adrian was drinking from him. It had taken a lot of trust to submit to it. Perhaps that was why he needed this right now – to regain some perceived sense of control, either between them, or simply over himself.

From the way he’d rolled them so he was on top, to the manner in which he’d pinned Adrian’s hands, it was clear. Trevor usually gravitated towards dominance in matters of intimacy. Being willingly bitten was tantamount to surrender – something which did not come easily to him. Adrian knew that. He respected how difficult it was for the man to offer himself as he had, and to be put in a position of helplessness.

Adrian was himself a predator – he had instincts which urged him to control and possess, and they were roused by the feeding – yet he had no desire to exert control over his partner. He was secure in the knowledge that Trevor and Sypha were his, and that he had their affections in return. He didn’t require more than that from them. Trevor’s blood burned pleasantly from within, and for the first time, Adrian found himself genuinely curious about how it would feel to go further than only external touching. Being so close – being physically connected – and placing trust in Trevor to lead was daunting, but appealing, even if thoughts of the act itself still evoked helpless distaste.

He was hypersensitive, reacting readily to every brush of Trevor’s body against his own, and stirred by the pheromones in the air. It was nearly impossible to deny his partner when the slightest contact made his breath hitch and threatened to unravel him. Adrian found satisfaction in being pinned beneath the muscled weight, belly and throat exposed. He would never allow anyone but Trevor or Sypha to put him in this position, but with them, it was okay. It was more than that; it was exciting. Trevor was one of the few people anywhere who could actually harm him if he so desired, and the knowledge that such a dangerous person wanted only to join with him and give pleasure was thoroughly rousing.

He trusted Trevor; loved him. Adrian would not deny him the submission he requested, despite his reservations. It was not unlike the situation which had just occurred in the reverse – Trevor had offered his throat, even though he was nervous of the experience. It had only served to deepen what they shared; he had never felt as close to the other man as he did now, his blood infusing strength and vigor, and his embrace assurance and safety.

Adrian raked his eyes over his marks on display on his lover, an unmistakable visible claim that left his vampire side purring approvingly. The hunter could leave no such outward evidence on him, but between them, they would know what transpired.

He now understood why Trevor hadn’t wished for Sypha’s audience in being bitten – Adrian found that he felt similarly about this. At least for the first time, he wanted it to be only the two of them.

He realized that he was staring up at the man who still had him pinned, and hadn’t responded to his urgent demands. He refocused and met Trevor’s eyes, returning the squeeze of his fingers and shifting his hips so he could rub himself against his partner. It felt good to accept it, to decide that he would do it, even though he was admittedly scared of the unknown, and still trying to wrap his head around how it could possibly be a pleasurable experience. Maybe it was less about the actual physical sensation, and more about the idea of joining their bodies together. When he’d been inside Sypha it was rapturous, and he hoped that it would feel equally as wonderful with Trevor.

“You can touch me,” he said, relaxing his body. He saw a shiver pass through the hunter’s broad frame. Blue eyes dilated visibly and warm fingers gripped Adrian’s palms with even greater force. He dipped in for a kiss, impatiently sliding his tongue between Adrian’s teeth to probe his mouth. His kiss was forceful, bruising. His prickly stubble scraped against Adrian’s chin, and he still tasted strongly of the cuts on his tongue and lips, which added an irresistible flavour to his mouth. Beneath that lingered the remnants of Hana’s ale, and the vegetable stew they’d eaten for dinner.

Eventually they needed air, and pulled back to breathe. The hunter leaned his forehead on Adrian’s cheek and panted atop him for several seconds.

“Trevor,” Adrian ventured, chewing his lower lip. “I must admit I am not- ah… well-versed in this. I don’t fully know what to expect.”

Trevor’s eyes softened, the wide smile returning to his face. His body lowered and he settled himself on Adrian’s chest, relaxing his hands so he was no longer pinning the dhampir’s palms on either side of his head. He began to slowly touch, rough fingers and calloused palm tracing along the lines of Adrian’s neck, his shoulder, his jaw. The sensation of their chests pressed against one another was lovely; he could feel their hearts beating close together.

“Well, to start with, you should be relaxed. It won’t help if you’re worried or overthinking it. Touch me if you want to, and tell me when I do something you enjoy. Uh, you like this too, right? Seeing it?” Trevor gestured to the fresh wound at his throat, still very new and not yet scabbed or bruised.

Adrian studied it openly, nodding as his cheeks coloured. “Yes,” he admitted giving the area a cursory brush with his fingertip. Trevor grinned.

“I figured. You got me what, five times?” He took inventory, touching the two punctures on his lower lip, and sticking out his tongue to show the one there, then holding up his right hand, the thumb and index finger each sporting a small break in the skin.

Adrian sniffed. “You were asking for most of those.”

“Yeah, I was,” the hunter agreed with a guilty smirk. “I’d better watch where I stick my cock now that you’re more liberal with your teeth,” he teased, tracing Adrian’s lower lip affectionately. “Anyway, my point is that you can’t be all worked up, or it will feel awful, and you might break my dick. Jesus, can you imagine trying to explain that to Syph? If you broke my cock because you clenched your ass too hard?” he laughed at his own words, and Adrian stared at him, mortified at the thought of something like that.

“Is that a legitimate concern?”

“Well, you _are_ super strong, so yeah, probably,” Trevor joked, still smirking. “Guess I’ll have to make sure you’re good and ready for me, then,” he said in a low voice, lecherous. “And we’ll need something for lubrication. Oil, butter, something slippery.”

The fact that they were talking about _lubrication_ now was really sinking home, and Adrian gulped. He was really going to go through with this. In a barn, surrounded by hay and animals. He wished for home, and for the luxurious comforts of his over sized, feather-stuffed bed, soft sheets, and myriad grooming products, most of which would leave his skin smelling of roses or other flowers and herbs. At least they’d bathed – he could hardly imagine approaching this without washing thoroughly, although he now wished that he had paid extra attention to a specific area, all things considered.

He sat up, easily freeing himself from Trevor’s weight atop him. He raked his fingers back through his hair, picking out bits of hay. “Will bear grease suffice?”

Trevor shrugged. “I don’t see why not, but you’ll have to find it. I can’t see in the dark,” the hunter pointed out, gesturing to the darkened interior of the barn, where their horses were paddocked, and their cart rested, still laden with most of their belongings.

Adrian rose, glad to have an opportunity to collect himself. He peered over the edge of the loft and jumped gracefully down, his hair flying behind him. He landed silently, approaching the cart and trying to remember where they’d stashed the remaining bear grease. He sniffed it out, the oily, animal scent easy for him to determine among their belongings.

Adrian grabbed their water skin as well and splashed some onto his face to clean away the remainder of Trevor’s blood. He rinsed his mouth, then brought the skin up with him so Trevor could drink. He would end up with an awful headache if he did not at least replace some of the fluids he’d lost.

He also grabbed an extra blanket, then leapt back to the second story, returning to Trevor’s side. He offered the water, which the hunter accepted, drinking all of it without argument. Adrian spread open the blanket, and together with the fur cloak, it gave them a larger, more comfortable area to lay. He eyed the makeshift bed with trepidation, shifting nervously on his heels. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to lie down.

Trevor looked up at him, evidently seeing his uncertain expression in the moonlight. He set the water skin aside and rose, meeting his partner eye-to-eye. Adrian felt Trevor’s warm hands encircling his waist as he pulled him close. He was still rigid between his legs, but the dhampir’s own excitement was ebbing away beyond his control.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, his heart fluttering in his throat.

Trevor began to touch him, sliding his rough palms along his ribs, over his back, and squeezing his shoulders. It helped. Adrian felt himself relaxing beneath the familiar fingers, letting himself be touched. Trevor’s hands found their way over his pectorals, never lingering too long over any of the very faint scars that remained from his ordeal in the Hold.

The hunter stilled against him, puling back slightly so they could see one another clearly. “Adrian,” he began, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said a little too quickly, which, of course, Trevor picked up on instantly.

“Right,” came the skeptical response, honest disappointment evident in his voice, although there was no reproach. He stepped back and adjusted his erection, trying to shift it into a less cramped position beneath his clothing. “I thought the uh- the blood stuff got you in the mood. You seemed ready a couple minutes ago.”

Adrian felt a measure of irritation at the repeated mention of that subject. Did he think that was all that mattered to him?

“Just because I am dhampir does not mean that blood is the only thing which is of any importance. Yes, it affects me. It arouses me. I think we’ve established that. But… you _do_ realize that I am interested in other things, don’t you? Not only that.”

Trevor scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. Sorry. It obviously makes you feel really good, and after you drink you’re always turned on. Now you’re nervous. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

Adrian deflated slightly, sighing and softening his expression and his voice. “You aren’t wrong – it does make me feel good, but,” he paused, shifting closer again and resting his head against the hunter’s. “You don’t need to be wounded for me to be attracted to you. Other things feel good too. Normal, human things. I don’t always wish to draw our differences to light. It would be enjoyable, sometimes, not to place so much focus on that.”

Trevor’s hand found its way into his hair, and Adrian felt the strong, thick arms wrap around him and crush him close. “Alright, then we won’t worry about that for awhile,” he assured, fingers carding through the long blonde strands. He melted against the other man, soaking in his heat, letting himself be held.

Minutes ticked by, a quiet, intimate silence enfolding them both. The heat and desperation with which Trevor had initiated things waned, and in its wake grew something more subdued. It was less intense, more gentle, and finally Adrian found himself calming, and warming to the prospect of opening himself fully, and allowing Trevor to touch him more deeply.

“You want to do this, don’t you? You’re not just humouring me?” the hunter said suddenly, his voice naked in the dim hay loft, all of his bravado and swagger absent.

Adrian nodded meeting the cold blue of his eyes. “Yes.” he said, finding himself more certain of it than before. He brushed his nose against Trevor’s and touched their mouths together softly. It was a slow kiss, saying the things Adrian was unable to put into words. Calloused hands cupped his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks and the delicate skin just beneath his eyes. He felt his body grow warm, wanting, as if everything suddenly fell perfectly into place and now it was right.

Trevor could be a very harsh person sometimes; he was rough and brash, often given to jarring words and forceful action, but Adrian needed something more sincere, and now he felt he had found it. Being together had to be more than only dominance or submission or a test of wills pit against one another. It had to be deeper than the frazzled excitement that was left after feeding. It might be fun to play at that in the future, but to allow himself to be vulnerable now, Adrian needed to be secure in the knowledge that he was in good hands. And he was.

Trevor guided Adrian back down to the blanket. This time he was calmer, and went willingly. He still felt the effect of his feed, his body hyper-aware and responsive, but he was no longer so anxious, and he was able to enjoy the way it felt when he was touched, when Trevor guided him to lie on his back, once more exposing his belly and throat.

The hunter settled between his parted thighs and stroked his stomach, then moved upward, followed the small line that divided the abdominal muscles, leaning over him so he could explore his pectorals. His hands moved over the darkened nipples, fingertips brushing them with teasing lightness. Adrian gasped at the contact and he saw that handsome smile spread over Trevor’s face as he did it again. Thumb and forefinger closed over them and applied pressure, and Adrian was hissing through his teeth, his body jumping at the strange sensation. It wasn’t necessarily good, but it wasn’t terrible either, and it made him feel like he was too hot, made his fingers dig into the blanket he was lying on.

“Ah, that’s-

“Good?” Trevor interjected, doing it again.

“Odd,” Adrian corrected, his voice low.

“What about this?” came the playful response, and Adrian found the shaggy head of brown hair leaning over him as Trevor closed his mouth on his right nipple. It was hot, wet, and he could feel the man’s breath on his skin when he exhaled through his nose. His tongue flicked the small hardened nub lightly a few times, which was an altogether queer sensation that made Adrian squirm both with enjoyment and to try and evade the next contact. Despite this, he found heat pooling between his legs, and slowly his arousal was returning, making his organ grow turgid and leaving it pressing against the crotch of his leather breeches. Trevor’s free hand brushed over the obvious tent just firmly enough to make Adrian try and push against it, but he moved it out of the way before he could gain any friction.

Instead, he distracted his partner by closing his lips around the nipple he was teasing, sucking it harshly. _That_ felt good, and Adrian made a noise of pleasure, his head falling back onto the fur beneath him, his body prostrate and languid. Trevor continued to gently pinch and now started to twist his other nipple as he sucked, then he applied his teeth, closing them neatly over the right, his fingers pinching the left harder.

“Unh,” Adrian whimpered, his mouth opening, trying to formulate a word to express how it felt, but coming up with just the one syllable. He writhed, his knees squeezing together as his prick grew harder, his belly tightening and his hips pitching upwards. Trevor leaned more heavily over him. He abandoned the left nipple, his hand moving instead to the crest of Adrian’s hip. He pressed him firmly down into the blanket and resumed the sucking, intermittently sinking his teeth against the abused nub of flesh when he was rewarded with favourable reactions each time. He moved to the other one as well, so as not to leave it unattended. Before long both of them were reddened, wet with saliva, and extremely sensitive.

Adrian had never been touched this way – he had not known that such a tiny spot on his body could make him feel so salacious, but he could not deny that he enjoyed the mixture of gentle and rough attention to his nipples, which were stinging pleasantly beneath Trevor’s teeth. He was growing more bold, biting harder, and it felt very good. Vaguely, Adrian recalled Trevor telling him to let him know when he liked the way he was being touched, and he blinked his gold eyes at the man, mouth opening, lips wet.

“That’s- it’s good,” he managed, and was met with a positively predatory expression, Trevor looking up at him from his place over Adrian’s chest.

“Mm,” Trevor hummed acknowledgment before delivering a particularly vicious bite to the already overstimulated right side. It might have drawn blood were his skin not so tough. In the same breath, the hand which had been keeping Adrian’s hips from bucking off of the blanket palmed his bulge, finally offering some measure of friction which he had been denied until this point.

“Fuck!” Adrian snapped, his claws extending slightly as his buried his hands in his hair and tugged at it, his eyes closing, legs spreading wider in effort to get Trevor to touch him more where he needed it.

Instead, the man changed his tactic entirely, abandoning his attention to Adrian’s chest. He sat back on his haunches and Adrian blinked at him, curious why he’d stopped when it was just beginning to feel good. Sharp blue eyes raked appreciatively over his body. “Every time I look at you I can’t believe how gorgeous you are,” he said, fingering the waistband of Adrian’s breeches. “These need to come off.”

He punctuated his statement by unfastening the tie and pulling the strings loose. When he was finished, he hooked his fingers in the edge of the garment and pulled it down, taking Adrian’s undergarment with it. The dhampir brooked no resistance, lifting his hips to assist in the removal of his clothing.

He found himself exposed to the cool night air, his skin ghostly white in the moonlight. Trevor looked him over with satisfaction, his hands tracing the crests of his hips and parting his thighs. The skin there was fine and perfectly smooth. The feel of rough hands on him made him shiver, and he knew Trevor could see between his legs.

He instinctively wanted to close them, to hide himself. It was awkward to be exposed, but Trevor shook his head. “No, let me look at you.”

Adrian swallowed, relaxing his knees, baring himself. He felt awkward, imagining how ridiculous he must look, cock sticking up, his testicles tight against it, his taint likely visible. As he watched, Trevor rubbed himself through his clothing. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, and Adrian heard his heartbeat speed up. He felt a flare of exhilaration when he realized that its was looking at him which was making Trevor react this way. His organ twitched, heat coiling low in his belly. He still wanted to close his legs, but Trevor had told him not to, so he didn’t. The heat redoubled, and he knew he was flushing all the way to his chest. His nipples still tingled from all the attention and he almost wanted to touch them, but balked shamefully at the thought.

Trevor opened the fly of his own breeches and stood to slide them off, shifting on his feet so he could free himself entirely, then re-taking his position settled on his knees between Adrian’s legs, naked and straining. His thighs were thick, the bellies of his quadriceps standing out against one another, the long line of sartorius stretched across them. Adrian stared, unable to pull his eyes away from his partner’s body. Trevor’s eyes glinted bright, the blue seeming unearthly and luminous. The moon limned his shoulders and his spiky hair, highlighting his outline. He really was very broad. Adrian knew that his own figure was quite well-muscled, but Trevor made him look almost slender by comparison. He imagined Trevor expertly wielding his whip, without a shirt, each grouping of musculature coiled with strength and nimble athleticism.

Adrian didn’t need to expend any effort to maintain his figure, but Trevor had earned every fiber of strength the hard way, through constant exertion and practice. It paid off in spades, granting him a body that made Adrian recall an ancient sculpture of Hercules he had seen once in a book. The drawings were hundreds of years old by the time Adrian saw them, rendered expertly by his father’s skillful hand. He thought now of the statue, depicting Hercules resting against his club, his naked form heavily muscled. It was a ridiculous comparison he supposed, but he could not help it flitting through his mind as he eyed the way Trevor’s oblique’s layered over the crest of his hip, reminding him of the drawing.

Trevor watched Adrian – who had by now succumb to a full blush all the way to the points of his ears – wrapping his hand around his cock, making the veins stand out as it darkened, swollen and ready. The tip was shiny, and as his hand slid along the length his foreskin was teased back, exposing the glans, already slick.

Adrian watched him casually masturbate himself, his hand sliding slowly over his flesh, thumb playing at his tip. He swallowed, staring, trying not to think of how large it suddenly seemed. Trevor must have known what he was thinking because he grinned wickedly and gripped himself at the base, pressing downward with his thumb to make the whole length jut proudly before him.

“Christ, I want you so bad I’m already dripping,” Trevor growled, his voice dropping to a gravelly, low tone. As he spoke, a bead of moisture did in fact leak from the head of his cock, soaking into the blanket.

Watching Trevor display himself and listening to him speak was having a profound effect on Adrian; his fingers dug in the blanket, claws poking through it in a few places. His stomach tightened, the lean muscle there bunching when his hips moved of their own accord, sending his organ bobbing heavily in the open air. It slapped against his belly and he wanted very much to touch himself, to find friction and satisfy the growing need for physical contact. He nearly jumped when Trevor’s hands opened over his thighs, caressing the skin appreciatively.

Trevor dragged his fingers along Adrian’s inner thighs, over his testicles, and up the underside of his cock in exploration, his touch light. He settled his hand around Adrian and stroked him deliberately slowly, which elicited a groan and made the blond toss his head, eyes falling shut with enjoyment.

It was short-lived, however. After several torturous, slow movements Adrian was released, and he was thoroughly mortified to hear himself whimper at the loss of contact. He didn’t think he could ever live it down if he begged to be touched, so he forced his mouth shut, lest anymore disconcerting noises spill free.

Trevor pushed at his thighs, urging them wider. Adrian bent his knees, heels resting on the blanket, legs falling further open to grant Trevor access to his body. He knew that shorty, he’d be touched strangely, but he tried to simply live in the moment, rather than anxiously anticipating the unknown.

Instead, Trevor shifted back and got onto his elbows, lowering himself between Adrian’s legs and slipping his forearms beneath them, curling his hands around Adrian’s thighs. He kissed the skin of one inner thigh, his hair and stubble tickling it maddeningly.

“You’re so white and soft here,” he commented, although it seemed more an absent observation, laced, perhaps, with a touch of awe. Adrian was at a loss for what to do with himself, so he slid the fingers of one hand into Trevor’s hair, careful not to injure him with his claws, which were presently unwilling to recede. He played with the clean brown strands, his other hand bravely finding his still tingling nipple and touching it curiously, wondering at how sensitive it still was. Surely it wasn’t too shameful to touch himself here, after Trevor had teased the area so mercilessly and left him wanting.

He inhaled sharply at the sensation and Trevor looked up from between his legs and smirked, seeing what he was doing. “Guess we found something you like,” he observed before lowering his head again. Adrian felt his lips, a little chapped, dragging over the skin. Did he realize that the area, like the neck, was a common place to feed from, and as such, was laced with nerves and exquisitely sensitive? He must, since he was mouthing it suggestively, raking his blunt teeth over the skin and sucking hickeys into it. Adrian could feel him sucking hard, and knew the small red marks would pepper his white thigh liberally if he kept it up, though they would fade quickly.

He expected Trevor to bite him as he tended to do, but he didn’t. He changed his position slightly, releasing Adrian’s legs in favour of once more curling his hand around his cock, which arced over his belly and was drooling freely from so much fruitless teasing. A few liberal strokes and Adrian’s mouth was open, lips pulled back in a scowl of pleasure, and he was thrusting himself into Trevor’s hand, his own slicing up the blanket at his sides. But the touches were infuriatingly unsatisfying, gentle and light, and offered little relief.

“S-stop teasing me, Belmont,” he panted, trying to muster the will to glare.

Trevor’s hand sank, gripping the base of his cock and pressing down over his pubic bone, which made Adrian strain. He could see his organ darkening, he could see the throb of his own pulse in it a pressure built. Trevor touched his inner thighs, tickling them playfully.

“Why am I only Belmont when you’re irritated?” Trevor mused, giving Adrian’s length a single stroke, his thumb brushing over the head. He jerked at the touch and there was a loud _rrriiipp!_ as Adrian tore a large hole in the blanket he was grasping, eyes flashing red.

Trevor seemed wholly satisfied by this evidence of Adrian’s mounting need and rewarded him by closing his lips over the head of his prick, taking it into the heat and wetness of his mouth and sliding the flat of his tongue along the underside, the frenulum, and dipping the tip into his slit, lapping away the clear precome which had been dribbling from it and leaking down the shaft.

“Unh, f-fu- mmmm” Adrian sputtered, his head relaxing, his body roiling with liquid pleasure at finally being touched in a more satisfying manner. Trevor’s hand assisted his mouth, the two moving in unison over the dhampir’s cock, spending several moments working him, bringing him closer to the mounting desire for release. He calmed, enjoying the feeling of being touched. He was surprised Trevor had put his mouth on him – he wasn’t sure if the hunter would be willing to do so – but he was very happy that he had because it felt incredible.

Just as he was sinking into a delicious rhythm which he was certain would lead to completion in short order, he felt a finger brush him between his cheeks, dragging along the divide between them and over his taint. Trevor touched his testicles, playing with them gently, before returning his finger to the cleft of his rear. He stiffened, suddenly remembering what he’d agreed to. It felt taboo and strange to be touched there, and he was torn between wanting to relax beneath the pleasure of Trevor’s mouth, and wanting to squirm free to avoid the uncomfortable contact.

The finger traced over him again, accompanied by a long press of tongue up the entire length of his cock, from base to tip. Adrian groaned at that, his brain warring with his body.

“Probably feels kinda strange,” Trevor said, recognizing Adrian’s discomfort. “You’ve never touched here? You were never curious while jerking off or something?”

Adrian lifted his head so he could meet the man’s eyes, appalled. “Of course not!”

He was met by his partner’s wide, disarming grin and he felt his cheeks burning. Trevor shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, really. Just relax. Think of how good your dick feels. Mmm, next time I want to watch you finger yourself,” he mused aloud, and Adrian sputtered, trying to withdraw, trying to free himself from the hunter’s grasp, but his cock was enveloped in the slick mouth once more and he could only make a noise which was part frustration and part enjoyment as his organ was taken in almost entirely, until he felt himself against the back of Trevor’s throat, which was hot and very slippery. His hips jerked and Trevor pulled back, gagging. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. “Hey, fuck, don’t forget your strength, eh? I can’t hold you down when you do that.”

Adrian nodded, embarrassed, lying still. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, just try to remember,” Trevor said fondly, no animosity evident in his voice or his expression. He used the break in their activities to fish out the little clay pot of bear grease, uncorking it and leaving it open beside them. He turned back to Adrian, surveying him: flushed, legs spread, cock glistening with saliva and swaying over his middle, and Adrian knew the expression on his face hid nothing of his thoughts – he knew he looked aroused and nervous together, and could feel his heart hammering in anticipation of the unknown.

Trevor put both hands on the blonde’s thighs, rubbing them, pushing his legs open more. His hands were firm and sure, and Adrian relaxed marginally, though he kept lifting his head to look, trying to see what Trevor was doing. Trevor crawled over him and kissed him. Adrian could smell and taste himself. “I’ll just touch a little first, so you get used to it,” he said against Adrian’s mouth before returning to his place between his legs.

His cock was encircled once again, much to his relief, and he sagged somewhat at the familiar pleasure of Trevor’s hand on him. Shortly, Adrian had fallen largely back into the state he’d been in minutes ago, his body straining, pleasure mounting towards release. The hunter’s free hand kept stroking his thighs, and tracing along his ass, slowly delving more deeply between his cheeks, touching his taint and brushing along his testicles, which had drawn close against him, and were full and sensitive as his body readied to ejaculate.

The next pass was bolder, and Adrian recoiled helplessly when the hunter’s finger touched his opening, the flesh sensitive and unaccustomed to such contact. He clenched automatically, his hips shifting, shying away. Trevor kept working his prick, distracting him from how awkward the feeling of having his ass touched was. He wanted to hide his face, unable to do anything to conceal his reactions.

“Fuck Adrian,” Trevor breathed, dipping to flick his tongue over the tip of the blonde’s hardness, his hand continuing to slide up and down along its length. “You’re going to be so tight,” he said, pressing his finger against the ring of muscle, letting it rest there for several seconds. Adrian bit his lower lip, trying to make himself relax, finding it coming a little more easily as he realized that the attention did not in fact feel terrible. It was more of a psychological association with the area which was uncomfortable. Actually, the pressure was sort of pleasant, the ring of anal muscle was very sensitive, even the cool air evoked some slight reaction.

He allowed his legs to spread a bit more readily, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and when Trevor touched him next his finger was slick, coated with the rendered bear fat, which was soft and nearly liquid in the warmth of the hunter’s hand. It was once again an alien sensation to be touched by the digit dripping with the oily substance, which was spread generously over his skin. He could feel his cheeks touching each other when he moved, the lubricant making them glide against each other.

Trevor watched his expression as it changed in response to the new experience, and he pushed his finger over the opening again, this time leaving it slick and oily. He dipped it very slightly inside, only enough to leave some of the bear grease behind, but not enough to push past the ring of muscle which was still tightly closed to any such action.

Adrian knew his cock was straining harder now, and he was starting to feel a little like he was unraveling beneath Trevor’s fingers. He tossed his head, his hair splaying around him, his hands wringing, unsure what he could do with them. He wished he could touch Trevor, feel him, but at the same time he doubted he could concentrate on much, each time his body was probed all his thoughts fizzled away like bubbles bursting in the air.

“You doing okay?” the hunter queried, pausing what he was doing to smooth the hairs out of Adrian’s face with his uncoated hand. His eyes searched Adrian’s with care, and the dhampir nodded, tucking his face into Trevor’s palm.

“I’m- yes,” he said in a small voice, speaking into his hand, trying to hide from the searching eyes even though such an act was pointless. Trevor could obviously see how efficacious his attentions were proving to be.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful than you do right now,” Trevor said to him, which served only to make him flush a deeper red, and Trevor punctuated his words by grasping Adrian’s cock again, this time with a hand which was liberally spread with the slippery bear grease. Adrian bucked, his eyes opening in surprise, finding himself coated. It made the contact even more sensual, every touch more enjoyable with the added slipperiness. It wouldn’t take much to bring him to orgasm at this point – even the frustratingly slow strokes would be adequate now. Trevor seemed aware of this, and he only moved his hand whenever the other touched Adrian’s opening, to keep him pulled between the two sensations, but never focusing entirely on one.

It was overwhelming, and Adrian was pliant, yielding, his body open to his partner, accepting the touches as they became more focused on one area, the finger beginning to press against him, seeking entrance. He felt a sharp, stinging pain as Trevor sought to push inside and he grew tense once more, the enjoyment diminishing.

“Don’t seize up like that. You have to let me in,” Trevor said, not relenting, the tip of his finger still seeking entrance, moving around the circular opening slightly, touching its edges, which, admittedly, felt quite nice now that he’d overcome the initial strangeness.

“It hurts,” Adrian protested.

“I know,” Trevor’s tone was uncharacteristically sympathetic, and he bent to press an apologetic kiss to Adrian’s knee, then another on his inner thigh. “It hurt when you bit me too, but it felt good after. This is like that. It will pass when you adjust. I promise I’ll take good care of you, Adrian.”

It was such a change from the every day banter and sarcasm that usually passed between them, and Adrian was touched by it, appreciative of the consideration. When he felt the next sharp stab of pain which accompanied the probing digit he did all he could to relax, and stopped himself from recoiling and pulling away. It conflicted powerfully with his natural inclinations, but he was already on his back, exposed and spread naked before Trevor – it was hardly the time to decide he couldn’t trust the man.

The finger slid past the exterior ring of muscle, stretching him strangely, accompanied by little flares of discomfort. Slowly, he found he could relax and it no longer hurt, though it _did_ feel extremely odd, and somehow larger than he knew the hunter’s finger to be. He was afforded a moment to adjust, then Trevor began to move inside him, pushing deeper, withdrawing, and moving in a circular motion, stretching him in a way he hadn’t realized was possible. When Trevor removed the finger entirely he was left sensitive, reeling, and very excited. The hand on his cock wasn’t enough. He wanted to take himself in hand, grip harder, move faster. He tried to do so, curling his fingers around Trevor’s on his prick, trying to get him to stroke.

“Trevor, I need to come,” he insisted, suddenly impatient.

“Not yet,” the hunter answered. “Just a little longer.”

He pushed his finger back inside, deeper this time, and Adrian moaned aloud, his legs squeezing, his body moving almost of its own accord. It wasn’t so uncomfortable now that he was expecting it and his body had relaxed even further. It was delicious, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, if still very strange, and that lingering sense that it was taboo hadn’t disappeared, only diminished, pushed aside by his enjoyment.

Trevor crooked his finger, curling it forward as he moved, and he brushed something that felt different, something deeply sensitive and which made his pelvis and abdomen tingle with a strange feeling he’d not experienced before. He grew still, waiting for it to happen again, trying to process the new sensation, but Trevor pulled his finger out, and then he was pressing it back in again, only there was a second joining it, and the sting of pain returned more strongly as Trevor inserted two fingers inside him.

“Ah, shit,” Adrian hissed, gritting his teeth. Trevor slid his hand along his cock in response, simultaneously pressing the two digits deeper into his body, moving them around to work the ring of muscle open. He felt lewdly stretched; the pair of them together were much larger than one alone had been. He panted as he realized he liked it – the pain was fleeting, but the fullness and the sensitivity of having his inner walls touched and rubbed were lovely. Trevor’s thumb tended the head of his organ and he felt the hunter press his body closer, his cock sliding in the oily mess between his legs, poking him almost as a reminder of what was to come.

“Tell me what it feels like,” Trevor spoke, leaning over him, pushing both fingers all the way to the knuckle inside him and alternately curling them, moving them apart, continuously changing where they touched. Adrian hadn’t realized he was shifting to meet them as they slid in and out of him, and at some point his mouth had dropped open and he was panting shallowly.

“It’s- ah- its strange,” he breathed, barely recognizing the tone of his own voice, roughened with pleasure. “Your fingers f-feel big, stretching me…unhhh,” he trailed off into a groan when Trevor brushed that curious place once more. He could feel it, not in his dick, but deeper, and Trevor kept touching it, his fingertips pressing against it as he moved his hand in and out.

It was… weird. Adrian stilled and tried to sit up, his hand fished around between his legs, coming to rest on Trevor’s and tugging at it. “Stop. I think- uhm- I think I have to pee,” he confessed with marked embarrassment, glancing aside. It was strange, he didn’t need to go, but suddenly he felt like he might piss himself and he couldn’t imagine how mortifying such a thing would be.

Trevor withdrew his fingers slightly, and the feeling subsided. He gave Adrian a knowing look. “That’s probably because of how I’m touching you. Right here,” he punctuated his words by resuming what he’d been doing and the sensation returned, but it was also making his whole belly and pelvis tingle and buzz pleasantly, and now Adrian wasn’t so adamant that Trevor stop. He released the hunter’s hand and laid back once more, allowing him to continue.

He thought he was about to come, but he didn’t, and as the seconds passed and Trevor’s fingers kept touching that place he felt as though he was balanced on the edge of an orgasm, somehow caught in the moment when he normally would have come, but it just kept going, and building. It was almost uncomfortable because it was so foreign to him, yet he couldn’t help relaxing even more, allowing the pleasure to swallow him up as he submitted to it. It was fantastic, especially combined with the sensation of his partner’s fingers sliding in and out of him, which he was finding he quite enjoyed. He felt lewd. Obscene. And he liked it. He liked that it was Trevor doing it to him. He sighed, letting all the tension drain away, and surrendered entirely, his eyes going glassy as Trevor’s hand moved faster and continued to touch that place over and over as he was stretched more thoroughly, the slippery bear grease slicking everything.

Adrian was melting beneath his partner’s touch and he knew he would not be able to hold out much longer. His dick was like an iron rod and when Trevor _finally_ granted him more friction the blonde groaned and thrust himself wantonly into the hand wrapped around him, his own delving into his hair, tugging at it as he tossed his head from side to side, eyes closed, mouth open, speechless and panting. He felt pulled too many directions; pleasure in his dick, and in his ass, and deep inside himself. He thrashed, his body undulating, his hips jerking, his mind reeling at the different sensations.

Without warning, Adrian realized he was coming. It was different than other times. It a was potent, all-consuming pleasure which was far stronger than what he normally felt when he masturbated, or even what he’d felt when he was joined with Sypha. Rather than the short-lived pulses of a typical orgasm, it was a continuous wave which bowled him over entirely, leaving him trembling from the sheer intensity. It had snuck up on him unexpected in light of how overwhelmed he already was by the experience of having his inner passage prodded and stretched.

Warm wetness was spreading on his stomach and he could do nothing to stop it. It seemed to go on and on, and when he looked at himself he saw an unreasonable quantity of milky fluid had coated his abdomen and still leaked from the head of his prick. He just flopped back, his whole body buzzing as though he was channeling pure electricity.

After the strongest part subsided Adrian lay prone, not a thought circulating his mind. His legs felt far away and useless, his face was slack, and he was awash in the aftershocks of his pleasure, completely boneless.

“You still with me?” Trevor spoke after a moment, and he realized the fingers were still inside him and Trevor was eyeing his hand, liberally coated in the mess. He wiped it on the blanket and grinned at the dhampir.

“Hm,” Adrian grunted, still reeling and not ready to move.

“Did you enjoy that?” the hunter asked. Trevor’s fingers eased out of him and he twitched at the movement, and sighed softly when he was empty once more, relaxing further. He flicked golden eyes over the hunter, not really focusing on him, but appreciating that he was there nonetheless.

“Hm,” Adrian repeated, that being the only vocalization available to him at present.

“Christ this is a lot,” Trevor noted, trailing his finger through the puddle cooling on Adrian’s middle. The observation yielded no embarrassment; he was still loose all over and barely coherent and didn’t care one wit about being covered in his own ejaculate. Trevor could do as he pleased for the moment and Adrian was content to lay there, slowly recovering his faculties.

He was dimly aware of his partner shuffling around beside him and then the hunter was wiping his front clean with his linen shirt, the white fabric soaking up the worst of the mess. He threw it out of their general vicinity and laid down on the torn blanket beside the blonde to wrap an arm over his chest, nosing his temple and laying a kiss on the side of his head.

“Adrian,” Trevor spoke into his ear, and he finally brought himself to move, turning his head.

“Yes?”

“I still really need to fuck you,” Trevor said urgently, nipping his ear. He took Adrian’s hand and placed it over his rigid cock, which was throbbing against the dhampir’s hip.

Adrian lazily kissed Trevor on the corner of the mouth. “You’re leaking,” he said with a slow smile, his thumb playing at the precome which soaked the hunter’s cockhead.

He was still sort of dazed and complacent, feeling too good to offer any resistance. He had not expected to enjoy this experience. He’d been gritting his teeth, silently preparing to _endure_ it for Trevor’s sake, but if the rest felt half as good as the part he’d already tried then it didn’t seem nearly as awful as he initially thought it would. He did, however, need a few minutes respite before he would be able to continue. He shifted onto his side so they were facing one another, absently stroking Trevor’s cock, watching the way his body jumped in answer, tight like a bowstring.

It was erotic to see him so worked up, his body primed and ready. Adrian knew it would not take very long before he was ready to pick up where they’d left off. He brought their bodies together, stroking their cocks with one hand, his own still mostly hard, and slippery with the lubrication and his fluids.

The brunet’s breath hitched, teeth clenching as he sucked air through them, his hand joining Adrian's between their bodies. He was nearly trembling with need, and it did not take long before he was growling in frustration. “Now. It has to be now,” he said, his voice ragged. He rolled them swiftly so Adrian was beneath him again and pushed his legs open, leaving Adrian exposed as he had been before, only his knees were bent further against his chest, and now he could feel Trevor against his rear. He had one hand on his cock, the other on Adrian’s thigh, gripping it firmly as he lined himself up.

He reached for the little clay pot of lubricating grease and scooped some onto his hand, coating himself with it. Adrian watched the muscles in his forearm move as he slid his hand over himself. He wiped the rest over the dhampir’s hole, his finger slipping back in again, as if to ensure that his partner was still relaxed. It had been several minutes now, but the return of the fingers there was still very much welcome, and it served to remind him of how good it felt to be touched inside. The second finger came quickly, working him again, making sure he was well-prepared. Trevor withdrew his fingers and grasped himself, prodding the crease of his ass with the head of his cock, sliding it along the length. He stilled when he had the end of his dick pressed over the blonde’s opening, and just stared at their bodies, taking in the sight.

“Fuck, I-” his voice cracked and he met Adrian’s eyes, his gaze naked, revealing everything he was thinking and feeling in that moment. He was trembling lightly, whether with anticipation, or need, or something else, Adrian could not say.

They remained in that position, Trevor poised against him, and Adrian spread beneath him. He looked up at the man over him, eyes falling to the fresh wound at his throat. His movements and the tension in his neck had caused it to begin to bleed again, and a thin trail of red slowly slid down Trevor’s chest. Adrian’s eyes coloured as he watched the droplet of blood slide between the pectorals. Whatever he’d said earlier about being interested in normal, human things went out the window in an instant. He swiped the crimson trail and smeared it over the skin as he collected the blood on his fingertips. He then brought his hand to his mouth, sucking his digits clean. His body twitched, and Trevor pushed against him, seeking entrance.

His dick was _much_ larger than the fingers, and felt wholly different. Trevor prodded him with it a few times, guiding himself with his hand.

“It’s going to hurt. More than before. Uh- please don’t crush my cock, I’m pretty attached to it. We’ve been together all this time and-

“Trevor?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

The hunter grinned at that and leaned forward, caging Adrian in beneath him. He felt the pressure against his ass increase. Trevor’s hands closed over his like before, pinning them on either side of his head. He inhaled Trevor’s scent, tipping his head up to mouth his neck, feeling himself stiffening at the combination of being pinned beneath this man whom he trusted implicitly, seeing and tasting his own bite on his throat, and the sensation of the engorged prick slowly pressing into him.

He hissed in pain when Trevor pushed the first inch past the ring of muscle. He stilled, giving Adrian a chance to adjust. It was very different from the fingers. Warmer, certainly larger, and the pressure was unrelenting, difficult to tolerate. Trevor withdrew and Adrian sighed in relief, but then he was returning, sinking back to the same position for several seconds before he withdrew again, offering brief respite from the pain of being stretched open.

When he next slid in he remained, pausing so Adrian could adjust to him before he slowly sank deeper, adding another inch, igniting the flare of pain anew. The sharp, stinging sensation threatened to make Adrian go entirely soft and made him want to clench himself tightly shut. Then, he was backing out again, and it was that taboo feeling that he had wondered about, familiar, but not entirely welcome. It took a little getting used to, but Adrian allowed himself the experience, and when Trevor pushed inside him again it almost felt good this time, the pain diminishing to only a fraction of what it had been.

“Oh fuck,” Trevor grunted, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so fucking tight, Jesus Christ, I’m not even halfway in and I want to blow my load.”

Adrian couldn’t find his voice to offer any kind of response to that, as he was wholly preoccupied with the sensation of nearly being split in two, which redoubled as his partner slid a couple more inches into him, obviously struggling to hold himself back by this point. He was starting to wonder if it was actually possible to fit something so large within his body. The pain deepened, searing, sharp, a burn that had him hissing through clenched teeth. His hands were grasping Trevor’s too-tightly, his claws digging into the hunter’s skin as he tried to keep himself from forcing the invading object from his body.

“Hey,” Trevor said close to his ear, brushing their faces together. “You’re alright,” he assured, voice barely audible. “Just breathe. I can feel you tensing. You’re crushing my hands.”

Adrian leaned into Trevor’s face, trying to do as he suggested and take in a breath, then another. The discomfort lessened as he found himself relaxing, releasing his grip. He had not realized how taut he’d grown, despite trying to remain calm. Soon, he felt the warm, firm pressure increase and move deeper, impossibly so, and he repeated the process, breathing slowly, taking in Trevor’s skin, his sweat, the sensation of his hair brushing against his cheek, the feeling of their bodies together. The pain was diminishing more easily now, and he had a chance to focus the unusual experience, the heat, the way he was stretched wide, full, and how close he felt to the hunter, who was trembling atop him, trying to restrain himself from thrusting forward.

It was absolutely the most intimate thing he had ever done. It was far different from the connection achieved through feeding – especially because he was the one in the vulnerable position this time, with Trevor atop him, holding his hands down, his hips seated firmly against Adrian’s rear. Trevor was staying still, fully sheathed, waiting for him to get past the initial unpleasantness. As the seconds ticked by, Adrian realized that it didn’t hurt any longer, and instead he found himself shifting experimentally.

“Unh- mmm Adrian. Shit. You feel too good. I gotta move,” Trevor mumbled against him and shifted his hips, which made the dhampir jerk in reaction. Trevor withdrew partway and slowly sank back in, groaning in pleasure as he did.

It was still odd, especially the part where he withdrew. Adrian felt initially like he wanted to stop when the indecorous feeling overtook him, but the inward stroke was so good that it made up for it in spades. He wiggled beneath Trevor, squirming helplessly at the nearly intolerable sense of deep penetration. He could feel Trevor’s cock throbbing against his walls, and his own was growing firmer in answer, reviving and hardening between their bellies.

Trevor let him have use of one hand and he moved it down between them to the place where their bodies met, curiously prodding himself and Trevor, who had pulled out partway to allow him space to feel their joining. Everything was slick with the lubrication, and he was so sensitive that the feeling of his own hand touching around his ass and beneath his testicles made him gasp. Trevor let his other hand go and leaned back to rest on his heels, watching this tentative exploration with a heated expression. He stroked Adrian’s thighs appreciatively, and a wave of goosebumps rose on his skin. He shivered.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Trevor growled, and his dick pulsed in agreement. He jerked his hips slightly, making Adrian jump beneath him. He was already beginning to leak precome once more, despite being so recently spent. He couldn’t help it, it felt good, it was far different from what he’d been expecting, and as he became more comfortable with being stuffed full of Trevor’s length he was beginning to entertain all manner of fantasies, mostly focused around Trevor pinning him down and stretching him until he could take no more. He surprised himself, and blushed, turning his head to the side as if Trevor could see what he was thinking. He could hide nothing this way, splayed wide and completely exposed.

Trevor leaned over him again, changing the angle of his penetration, and wrapped his hand around Adrian’s erection. He slid along it as he pushed back into his body, dipping to kiss his throat. He was brushing against that place again, the same place he’d touched with his fingertips before, only it was less direct now, and while it made him buzz and tingle, it was not as concentrated. The overall feeling of being full superseded it. Adrian wrapped his legs around Trevor’s waist, his heels resting against him, and he touched his chest, opening his hands over it and turning his head again so he could look at it. He could feel the thrumming rhythm of his partner’s heart and there was still blood smeared along the center line of his pectorals. He eyed his bite, the two deep punctures left by his teeth red and raw. Pleasure and satisfaction flared, his eyes colouring once more, his teeth offering a hearty twinge, though his appetite was already entirely sated.

“T-Trevor,” he said, though he didn’t know what he was asking for. His voice was thick, low, laced with desire.

The hunter seemed to understand, even if Adrian didn’t. He felt Trevor thrust into him until his hips slammed against his body, driving his cock deep inside and wringing a mewl of enjoyment from the blonde, whose fingers curled against his chest, claws drawing furrows into it. The scent of spilled blood wafted between them, drips of it spattering over Adrian's hand and chest. Trevor grunted at the pain and grabbed Adrian’s wrists to pin them over his head with an iron grip. He held them there with one hand, the other he used to brace himself and he began to drive into Adrian in earnest, his swollen organ sliding against the dhampir’s passage, stretching it wider and forcing himself deeper. Each thrust had his hips crushing hard enough into Adrian to force him back a few inches. Trevor’s grip on his wrists was bruising, though it left no marks on his resilient flesh.

Every stroke touched the sensitive place inside him, sliding along it over and over, making his body sing as the sensation built on itself, reaching levels he’d never felt until now. His forgotten erection slapped between them and Adrian’s mind reeled at the full feeling in his body, the exquisite stretching that threatened to overtake his rational thought. He was moaning aloud with each stroke, grunting each time Trevor sank home, submitting himself completely to this new and incredible feeling of being taken, fucked, joined as one with the man atop him. He was beyond words, beyond individual thoughts or conscious action. He was awash in sensation and completely at the mercy of his lover.

Trevor’s pace quickened, his strokes no longer punishing and deep, rather they became shallow and fast, and each one struck that place that sent tingles of sensation through his entire body and left him wanton and obedient, spread wide to take whatever was offered. His dick was grabbed in a trembling, clammy fist and worked quickly, Trevor stroking him loose and fast to match the pace of his fucking. The sound of their hearts pounding ran together and he could no longer determine where he ended and the hunter began. His eyes were sightless, his chest slicked in sweat and blood. Trevor released his arms and slipped two fingers into his mouth and he sucked them and sank his teeth in, trying not to do any serious damage. Blood spilled into his mouth. His arms jerked over his head as if they were still held there by an unseen force and he was coming, his cock rigid in Trevor’s grasp and spraying them both with white. With a last exultant thrust Trevor was deep inside him and following him over the edge with a grunt. He felt the heat spreading, filling his passage as Trevor spilled into him, hips cocked forward, small thrusts accompanying his orgasm. He then collapsed over Adrian, lying against him panting, still buried deep in his body.

They lay together in silence, only the sound of their racing hearts and panting breaths audible to them. Neither seemed willing or able to move for several minutes, though Trevor pulled his fingers from Adrian's mouth and buried them in his hair, and Adrian sighed against him and brushed his lips over Trevor’s head, which rested over his breast.

Eventually Adrian became aware of the awkward slippery feeling of Trevor softening within him, and his ejaculate leaking out. It was dripping along the crevice of his ass and soaking into the blanket under them. He was loath to give up the feeling of unity, but his desire for cleanliness was beginning to overtake his enjoyment of their present entanglement. Between them was a sticky mess, and the logistics of trying to bathe in the tiny barrel tub were starting to intrude on his lulled state of mind.

Trevor’s eyes were closed, though he was not asleep. His hand was working in Adrian's hair, fingering it lightly and touching his scalp.

“We should get up,” Adrian whispered against the crown of his head, kissing it absently. He tasted the saltiness of Trevor’s sweat on his lips. “We need to wash.”

The man lying on him shifted, slipping out of his opening, though he didn’t get up. “In a minute,” he said dismissively, staying as he was. “My head is kinda spinning.”

Adrian brushed his lips over the soft hairs again and smiled against his lover. “Hm, I’m sure it is,” he said with a measure of humour in his tone. It was not any great surprise, considering that Trevor had flatly refused rest and sustenance after he’d lost a good amount of blood, then he’d proceeded to exert himself so thoroughly. “If we stay here much longer Sypha is going to come looking for us, and we might dry this way and be stuck together indefinitely.”

Trevor groaned in complaint, but he finally stirred, lifting his head and studying Adrian. His face was relaxed and it was evident that he was sated, eyes partly lidded. He smiled at the dhampir, pushing himself up and looking between them. “Jeeze, yeah this is pretty gross,” he said when he saw the state of things. Their skin was decorated in a mess of blood and ejaculate. There were four slices across Trevor’s pectoral, not terribly deep, but several inches long, and they still bled. He touched a hand to his chest. “Uh, maybe next time we try doggy style. I’ve got enough scars as it is,” he said the last part under his breath, but Adrian heard, and felt a pang of guilt for the damage wrought.

The hunter examined his hands, opening and closing them gingerly. They were injured as well, the backs of his palms punctured from the tips of Adrian’s claws. He tried to think of when that had happened. It was likely in the beginning, when he’d been trying to adjust to Trevor inside of him. He held out his hand and the hunter obligingly placed one if his own in it. He pulled it closer to look. There were bruises over his knuckles in the shape of Adrian’s fingers.

“I hurt you,” he said, looking over the marks. He felt awful for not paying more careful attention to what he’d been doing. When he had coupled with Sypha he had not harmed her(although he knew he’d been close), yet with Trevor he’d come unhinged to some extent, especially because of the vulnerability of his position. It had been overwhelming and new and painful, and he’d forgotten himself; he had not realized how tight his grip was. Looking over the man before him, Adrian frowned, unease twisting in his stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” he trailed, shame swallowing his voice. He took a breath, attempting to steady himself. “Are you alright?” he asked instead, still holding Trevor’s nearly crushed hand.

“Yeah. At least you didn’t break anything,” he said wryly.

Adrian stared at him, fighting his shame. “May I try something?” he asked, tracing his fingers over the gashes on Trevor’s chest.

“As long as it doesn’t slice me up anymore,” came the flat response, and Adrian wanted to recoil, disgusted at himself.

“No, I think you’ve bled enough as it as,” he said quietly, the guilt easily audible in his words. He bent against Trevor and ran his tongue over the wounds to clean them so he could see them more clearly. Then he pierced his own tongue with a fang and laved the gashes, allowing a tiny amount of his blood to mix into the wounds. It was only a minuscule amount, nothing great enough to have any lasting effect.

This was what his father had taught him all those years ago, during the lesson about feeding delicately, without leaving a mark. His blood was curative to humans; a few drops would be adequate to close the wounds over and leave no remnant of them.

Adrian followed all four of the cuts with his tongue, leaving a trace of his blood in them and sitting back to watch the effect. Trevor touched himself in amazement as they slowly closed over and disappeared, leaving behind smooth, unmarred flesh. Even some of the older scars which were laced through the fresh slashes healed away. He stared, rubbing his chest uncomfortably.

“Shit. Fuck… what did you do?” he looked a little panicked, his heart rate kicking up.

“My blood can heal you,” Adrian said softly, reaching for Trevor’s injured hands. He yanked them away.

“I don’t want to be a fucking vampire! What the fuck!?”

Adrian snatched his hands and held them, worried Trevor would try to flee. He was always jumping to conclusions, barreling in half-cocked without knowing all the facts. “That won’t happen. You have to die to become a vampire, Trevor. It can’t happen by accident. I’m not even certain I am capable of turning someone. I’m only half, remember?”

“What about enthrallment?”

“That requires magic, and the quantity of blood needed for it is far greater. You’re a Belmont; surely you have knowledge of these things.”

“Well, yeah, I guess I learned some of that at one point,” Trevor eyed him warily, but relaxed his arms, letting Adrian repeat the process on his hands. He punctured his tongue again and licked the wounds left by his claws, hoping enough of his blood would mix into the area to reduce the bruises as well.

The pair watched as the bruises faded, and the punctures closed over, leaving the backs of his hands free of marks. Adrian did not touch any of the wounds which had been left during feeding earlier – those had been consensual. When the process was complete he glanced at Trevor, hoping the unease would be gone from his face.

“Better?” he asked, because the hunter hadn’t spoken.

“Yes, actually. It feels fine,” Trevor was still studying his hands, opening and closing them as if to test their functionality. “Thank you.”

“Trevor,” he began, repentant. He shifted, very much aware of the feelings still running through his body. He wished he could communicate how it had been for him, how close and incredible the experience was. He could still feel the effect of Trevor inside him, lingering as a reminder of what they’d shared. He felt as though the accidental injuries had drawn a line between them, and did not want to seek Trevor’s arms because he was filthy and brimming with self-loathing for his negligence. “I will be more cautious if we- should we try again. It was very… intense. I realize that’s no excuse-”

“It’s okay,” the hunter cut him off. “I’m alright,” he met Adrian’s eyes, favouring him with a disarming smile, which flooded the dhampir with relief. “Come here,” he said, patting the space between his legs. Adrian scooted so his back was against Trevor’s chest. The thick, warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him firmly against his partner’s body. Trevor buried his nose into his hair and kissed him there, squeezing him tightly. “You felt so incredible,” he said into his hair. “I already want to do it again.”

Adrian was relaxing, the tension that had built melting away as he found absolution in Trevor’s embrace. His eyes stung, but he wasn’t going to let himself cry over silly feelings. Instead he breathed deeply and allowed himself to sink against Trevor, who seemed more than content to hold him for awhile.

Eventually, Adrian began to fidget, the uncomfortable sensation of their various fluids drying on his skin and still leaking out of him driving him to free himself from Trevor’s arms. “We need to clean up,” he said, twisting to look at the hunter.

“Yeah, you’ve got blood on your face. And in your hair. And my come in your ass. And your come-”

“I know what’s all over me, thank you,” he cut in, not requiring an itemized list of everything that was clinging to his skin.

Trevor snorted and let him go, rising to his feet. Adrian followed him, eyes widening when he realized that he could still feel the way Trevor had worked him open – his ass was slick and dripping and also incredibly sensitive. He had expected his healing to simply erase all evidence of their coupling within a few minutes, but he could still feel it when he moved.

Trevor grabbed one cheek and squeezed it indulgently. Adrian yelped and swatted his hand away. “Stop that!”

The hunter laughed, unfazed. He peered out the large door in the wall of the hay mow, looking over the yard. “I don’t suppose there’s an alternate source of water nearby – you know, other than the one smack in the center of the lawn, visible from Hana’s house?”

“Uhm...”

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Trevor muttered. “Well, guess it’s a good thing I have no scruples,” he joked, stepping into his boots and grabbing his breeches before making for the ladder.

Adrian collected his own, leaving the rest of the mess behind to deal with later. He closed the door to keep some of the heat in – they would be coming back here later to sleep for the night and Trevor and Sypha would get cold. He opted to float slowly down from the loft, not wanting to move too much just yet.

He and Trevor made their way out of the barn, peering around the yard and towards the cottage. There was a glow from the hearth through the windows. Adrian could see Sypha sitting in the rocking chair, her back to the window, the orange of the fire glinting in her hair. Hana appeared to have fallen asleep, her small figure was barely visible from his vantage point, strewn over the couch and covered in a blanket.

They made their way across the frozen grass, which crunched under Trevor’s boots. The night was so frigid that steam was rising from the hunter’s damp shoulders and his breath came in visible puffs. He did not envy Trevor his humanity as they came to the water pump. He took the cold metal in hand and filled a bucket, dumping it over himself and quickly filling another. He repeated the process a few times while Trevor hopped from foot to foot and waited impatiently for him to finish. He scrubbed his face, his hair, his chest, and his genitals, and once he was satisfied that he was clean and no longer reeking of sex and blood he filled more buckets for Trevor. His hands were icy by the time they finished, all of the heat he’d managed to gather lost to the freezing metal of the water pump, his frigid bath and the night. Trevor was shivering violently, his teeth making a racket chattering together. Adrian allowed his magic to flare, drying himself easily. Trevor watched him with poorly concealed envy.

“Tomorrow I want you to test some of that, see if it will burn people close to you. I could sure as shit use a free burst of heat about now,” he griped.

Feeling bad for him, Adrian disappeared from view and re-appeared moments later, holding a towel from their belongings, and Trevor’s shirt, which had escaped the mess, unlike Adrian’s. The hunter snatched it and began rubbing himself dry before he quickly pulled on his clothes.

“Let’s get back inside before I freeze to death,” he muttered, and they sauntered towards the house, arms around each other’s waists.

They gained the porch and Trevor paused, turning to face the blonde. He pulled him close and kissed him deeply, his lips searing hot now that Adrian was back to being tepid erring on the side of cold. When they pulled apart, he pushed a tendril of hair from Adrian’s face. The blue of his eyes was sharp and bright in the night and the dhampir could still feel that strange sensation lingering inside him, reminding him of how it had felt to be joined together. He put his head against the hunter’s and wrapped him in a long hug, sighing against him. Trevor’s hand slid to Adrian’s ass and cupped it gently. His other one stroked his back.

They stayed that way for a moment, holding one another, before Trevor’s shivering grew obtuse. Adrian withdrew first. “Let’s go inside. I want to lay with Sypha,” he said, thinking of how nice it would be to hold her, and how she would inevitably complain that he was freezing. He smiled at the image.

Trevor nodded agreement. “I wanna see if I can get another cup of Hana’s ale. It’s damned good.”

“You should eat some actual food, or you’re going to feel awful tomorrow.”

“You really are going to make a fuck of a wife, Adrian,” Trevor laughed, stepping in front of him towards the door.

It creaked open under Trevor’s hand, a wave of welcoming heat rolling over them both, and they disappeared inside the house.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious, the statue Adrian was thinking about was the Farnese Hercules. Rather, it would have been the original bronze statue of which the Farnese Hercules is a replica. The original was destroyed in the 1200's, but Drac has been around for awhile, so he saw it, and thought to draw it. I'm a fangirl, I can give Trevor the body of a demi-god if I damn well please! And Adrian was seeing it all through rose coloured glasses, so he's an honorary fangirl too.
> 
> I hope this chapter hit the mark! For those of you missing Sypha, she'll be back next time, but I needed these past two chapters to give the boys some much-deserved bonding time.
> 
> I greatly appreciate feedback! Let me know how this story resonates with you! Thank you so much to everyone who has offered support and commentary. You're all amazing!


	32. Part Thirty-Two

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-Two**

Adrian followed Trevor into the house, immediately hit with the strong scent of herbs and the lingering remnants of the incense.

He was still floating in a pleasant haze, weightless and subdued by the delicious combination of Trevor’s blood running through him while his body ached deeply.

He gracefully slipped out of his boots, bending to place them with the heels neatly against the wall beneath his coat. Beside him, Trevor was tugging his own feet free. His hair still dripped, and the damp strands stuck to the side of his face. Together, they parted the beaded curtain and entered the main room of the house.

Sypha was in the rocking chair with her knees curled up and had a thick book spread open over them. She tucked a feather into the book to keep her place and closed it, setting it on the small, cluttered table next to her. Her hair was mussed and sticking out on the side where her fingers toyed with the short curls. She often did that when she read – played with her hair.

Her face softened as she took in the sight of the men – Trevor’s arm around Adrian's waist, his lack of a shirt, and the hunter’s wet hair and damp clothing. Adrian was sure his expression was giving away his present mood – muted and thoroughly satiated. He blushed under her gaze and inched closer to Trevor, whose fingers tightened on his waist. He leaned to plant a kiss on the blonde’s cheek before releasing him and striding purposefully to the fire to defrost his hands.

Sypha’s gaze followed Trevor, lingering on his back for several seconds. She turned back to Adrian. Her lip twitched.

“Where did you two get off to? You’ve been gone so long I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back. Oh, and try not to disturb Hana, she really needs to rest.”

Her attention diverted to the very still figure on the small couch, almost unnoticeable until she was pointed out.

“Is she alright?” Adrian asked, brows rising in concern as he surveyed the old woman, who had two thick quilts pulled all the way up to her chin.

Her braid had been unraveled, long black hair streaked with grey fanned out over the colourful pillow she was propped against. He was struck immediately by how frail she seemed now that her eyes were closed and her formidable personality was absent. She was so tiny, the high cheekbones jutting, the soft tissue beneath them sunken and more wrinkled than he had realized. Her lips were thin and lined, and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. She hardly moved at all – had Adrian been unable to hear her heart and her breaths, he may have thought her dead.

Sypha’s expression was transparent, showing all of her fondness and worry. “I think she’s okay,” she said, rising and going to the small couch to sit at the edge of it. She smoothed one hand over the sweep of dark hair. “The spell took a heavy toll on her. It was probably a combination of exertion and her reaction to your experience, Adrian. She calmed down after you left. I helped her to lay down and brought her some ale. She fell asleep soon after that and she hasn’t stirred at all. I really hope she’s better in the morning.”

Adrian approached the couch and peered over the back of it at the small figure. Her mouth was open slightly and she breathed slowly in sleep. She appeared thin and fragile, and he felt a pang of sadness for her as he tried to imagine what it must be like to live with her gifts, and to be unable to turn them off, even in sleep. He hoped Sypha’s presence was a comfort to her.

If he could have, he would have stayed by her side to watch over her, but even as he took a few tentative steps closer, he saw her brows draw together, and he knew she was uncomfortable near him.

Was he really composed of such chaotic, dark elements? So much so, that it pained someone like Hana to be close to him? The idea of that was disconcerting, but he could not change his nature anymore than she could stop feeling things from the world around her, so they would both have to live with their lots in life, for better or worse.

“It’s good that you were here for her Sypha,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman.

Trevor, who was crouched in front of the hearth, turned his back to the flames and settled to a more comfortable position. “Don’t worry so much about her,” he said gruffly. “She’s tough. She’ll be fine. I’m willing to bet she’d prefer if we just left her alone.”

Adrian watched her for a moment longer before turning away, sweeping his eyes around the room. The surface of the table was clean save the large beeswax candle, and a few feathers and stones. The dark wood had several rather dramatic gouges left by his claws; some of them were nearly an inch deep. A long hairline crack split the wood where he’d been seated.

The Belmont Vampire Book was there as well. He eyed it trepidatiously, thinking back to the hazy minutes before Hana and Sypha had cast the spell to make him see visions. They had been perusing it side by side. Sypha had said something-

“ _We looked in the book together, and found some pretty important stuff about the castle and your father. I hadn’t read that part before tonight.”_

So, there was new information. Adrian was irritated that he could not touch or approach that book, because he was one of the only people who might be capable of determining what was true and what was utter nonsense. He needed to know what Sypha and Hana had uncovered. With all of it together, they might be able to come up with a reasonable plan of action.

Adrian had wanted to forget the vivid, overwhelming visions, and for a time, he had. Between feeding from Trevor, then all the rest, he’d been granted a more than fair reprieve. Now, however, he’d spent enough time avoiding the issue, and he knew his companions were curious. He had to tell them what he’d seen; it was only fair that they choose a course of action together.

But where to start, when his body was still supremely relaxed, and he was sated, spent, and veritably fantasizing about gathering Sypha against him and kissing her breathless?

He hoped she’d notice his bite on Trevor’s throat. It seemed silly, but he wanted her to know that he’d done it. And he still felt sensual and affectionate, and wished to be close with her. He blushed when he thought of her knowing what Trevor had done to him. He was still reliving the different sensations himself. Every time he moved, he felt how Trevor had stretched him and filled him, and it was delicious.

He wished that they were alone. He wanted to gather Sypha up and peel off her dress so he could touch her bare skin. He would relish burying himself in her heat right now, rather than talking about the dismal future.

“Adrian?” Sypha said his name, pulling him from his thoughts.

His gaze played over her red mouth, the curve of her shoulder in the black dress, the way her eyes reflected little flickers of the light from the hearth.

“I’ll be just a moment,” he explained, and strode through the room to the small darkened kitchen to collect his thoughts and find something for Trevor to drink and eat. The beaded curtain clacked and swayed when he passed through it.

In the relative dimness of the room, Adrian braced himself against the counter and inhaled the homey scents of ale and herbs, hands smoothing over the worn wood. It was warm under his touch. He poured an ale for Trevor, then searched out something for him to eat. There wasn’t much, and Adrian realized that Hana had almost no food save some grains, a few preserves, and a lot of herbs. There was very little in the way of protein, and the vegetables she had stored would obviously run out before the warm weather returned.

He took the last bit of bread from the counter and spread some sweetened raspberry preserve on it, then brought it out to Trevor with the ale.

“Here,” he said, pressing the food and drink into his hands, their fingers brushing together.

Trevor accepted the cup and drank deeply, then stuffed a wad of bread into his mouth and chewed. Satisfied by this, Adrian sank down beside him with his back to the fire, allowing the intense heat to soak into his bare skin.

He was stalling, but Sypha’s expression was growing expectant and he knew he would have to say something.

She watched him closely from her perch on the edge of the couch. Once he was settled near the fire she rose and padded softly towards him. She stood between his legs and he looked up at her along the length of her body. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and in answer he closed his eyes and put his hands on the backs of her legs, pulling her against him. He rested his face against her thighs, breathing her in.

They spent a moment that way before he pulled her down into his lap. She went willingly, letting him arrange her so she was sitting with her back cradled in his arm, her legs stretched straight out and onto Trevor’s lap beside him. She rested her head against his shoulder.

“You’re cold,” she remarked, touching the skin of his chest.

“I’ll warm up if I sit here awhile,” he answered, touching his lips to the crown of her head. Her curls tickled his face.

Beside them, Trevor finished his snack and ale, setting the cup out of the way. He played with Sypha’s feet in his lap.

Sypha extended an arm towards him and traced the bite on his neck, which was finally beginning to scab.

“You did it,” she observed, looking between them. “So that’s what you were up to all this time,” she added with a little smile, leaning up to press a kiss to the angle of Adrian’s jaw. “I’m glad you worked that out. I’d like to hear about it, but right now I think we should talk. Adrian, will you tell us what you saw?”

He had just been on the verge of pushing it from his mind entirely, and he could not help a sigh of resignation.

“I suppose I must,” he said to her, his hand on her thigh over her dress. “But I am first interested in knowing what you and Hana learned from the Belmont Book. What did you find?”

“Oh, that,” Sypha said offhandedly. “The book is extremely old. There are pages in it which are copies of an even older text. Much, much older. The section we were reading has been translated multiple times; the word order is archaic and strange. There are no dates, so it’s impossible to tell specifically when the information is from, but there are some clues in the text itself.

“There is a passage,” Sypha said, clearing her throat and shifting her voice into what Adrian imagined was her ‘Speaker’ voice – her storytelling voice. “It’s hard to determine the meaning in some sections, but I’ve read it over twice, and I think I have a grasp on it now.”

Trevor scooted a little, leaning in so he could hear properly. Sypha adjusted herself in Adrian’s lap, straightening in order to better project her voice.

Adrian listened, a strange feeling in his stomach.

“A long, long time ago – that is, close to two thousand years ago – there was a company of scholars, wise men, and magicians. They studied the stars, the elements, and the supernatural, casting aside prejudice and preconceived notions in favour of evidence and fact. Some of them were alchemists, or sorcerers, and some were ordinary men. All of them were highly educated. They came from many different nations, brought together by their singular desire to learn. All were heavily vested in the pursuit of truth.

“One of their number was Vlad Dracula Tepes, a brilliant philosopher and scientist who was also an accomplished magician. He was deeply motivated by his search for knowledge, and was one of the founding members of their collaboration, perhaps _the_ founding member. They had no specific leader, but the others looked up to him and respected him. He was more than willing to accept men from all walks of life into the company, as long as they shared in the desire to find the absolute truths.

“He worked for a long time on discerning the specifics between magic and science, and was especially skilled in alchemy, which incorporates both together. His inventions and ideas were responsible for countless technological advancements, but he was never satisfied by his achievements, and always felt that there was more to be uncovered. He was tireless in his efforts to learn the inner workings of magic, and life.”

Sypha adjusted her position in Adrian’s lap, glancing at him. He was entirely focused on her, listening intently to her story and trying to imagine his father as he may have been then, as a human man. It was hard to picture; he had only ever known his father as a vampire.

“Dracula’s research indicated that some regions of the Earth harboured concentrated power. He wanted to find one of these so he could study it, conduct experiments, and prove his various hypotheses. He gathered rumors and stories everywhere he went in effort to track down such a place. He began by placing focus on areas which were known to have a high concentration of supernatural activity. Eventually, he was led to a tiny village in Dacia, which we know today as Wallachia. The local people spoke of something terrifying and powerful buried deep within a system of caves beneath the mountains. They were superstitious, and took great care to avoid the area for fear they would be cursed by darkness and evil.”

“He told the other scholars about his findings – that he believed he had discovered a source of magic strong enough to test his theories. He spoke of miraculous healing, and even immortality. Many of the others were skeptical, as it was in all of their natures to question things and seek proof. He summoned the entire company to come and bear witness as he attempted to tap into the magic he’d found so it could be used to advance their scientific endeavours. He had already been working on a series of talismans – precious stones which might be able to harness the magic in the caves. He was adamant that this discovery would change many lives.

“Some of their number cautioned him that it was too dangerous, and that he should leave it alone. He ignored them. This was what they had been searching out for decades, he argued. It was risky, but it was necessary.

“Eventually, they all gathered together and followed him into the caves which led down into the earth. They had many supplies, and were prepared for a long and dangerous journey into the unknown, led by a local man who had grown up in the area and knew the caves well, despite the general wariness his people had for them. He was initially reluctant, but became more willing once he was plied with a handsome sum of gold.

“They set off, making their way deeper and deeper beneath the surface. It took several days to reach their goal, and they were forced to make camp in tight quarters, sleeping side by side in the narrow passages, each man tied to the one beside him to prevent any of them from getting lost. They left markers along their path as they went to guide them back on their return. The air became stifling, thick with dangerous gasses and heat. The darkness was so absolute that only magical torches which would not react with the gasses in the air could permeate it, and many in their group struggled to tolerate the conditions. Their guide became nervous as they got further in, and started to caution that they should not continue any further. It took considerably more gold to persuade him this time. Some of the men turned back anyway, but they became lost in the confusing, intertwined caves and perished.

“Those who continued began to feel a ‘pull’ as they moved deeper into the winding passages. They traveled faster, guided less by their hired man, and more by the flutter of excitement in their guts. It drew them along despite themselves. When they next made camp the men were plagued with vivid dreams and wild visions, and some of their number tried to sneak ahead without the rest. When the company woke, they found their guide had deserted them and taken their gold, and that several others were missing as well. Two of them were discovered only a few hundred paces further in. They were dead. Their daggers were buried in one another’s guts. By now only a little over half of the original party remained, but all of them were adamant that they continue, Vlad Dracula most of all.

“The overwhelming silence of the caves had persisted for days, but it was slowly overshadowed by a rhythmic pulsing beat. It was hypnotic, drawing the group in towards it against their better judgment. Those who were sensitive to magic were able to feel the power which grew stronger as they got closer to the source. Soon, all of them could feel it, magical abilities or not.

“They had come, finally, to their destination.

“The cramped path opened into a large cavern. It was stifling hot, and humid, and reeked of blood. The men were sweating profusely, and quarreled over the remaining water provisions, bickering and greedily drinking up their fill, heedless of the long journey they still had to make to get back to the surface. In the center of the cavern was a crack in the earth, a crevice that pulsed with nearly intolerable magic. It was filled with a red liquid which smelled like blood. Everyone was affected once they got close to it. It drew them in and clouded their minds with fantasies of power and domination. It made them greedy and violent. Their arguments escalated, the men beginning to fight among themselves as the irrational suspicion grew.

“Vlad Dracula, who had initially brought them all here to study and harness what lay in the cave, was instead overcome by the power of it. He accused the other scholars of attempting to steal it for themselves, and he turned on them quite suddenly. He physically blocked the path to the center of the cave, allowing nobody to pass him. He was an imposing man, nearly seven feet tall, and he was skilled in swordsmanship and hand to hand combat. Most of the other scholars were not nearly so capable, and all of them were exhausted from the days of tense underground travel, and not expecting a physical altercation. He attacked them.

“It is not entirely clear what happened next. Before long, the floor of the cave was decorated by the unconscious figures of his company, and Dracula’s hands were stained in their blood, his huge shoulders heaving with effort as he turned on them one by one, knocking them down. His eyes glowed an inhuman shade of red as he felled the last man, sinking to the dirt to catch his breath.

“Once he regained his strength, he dragged the first man closer to the pool and drew a dagger from his robes. He cut the man’s throat, painting them both in a macabre wash of crimson that dripped and sprayed onto everything.

“One of the group avoided the fate of the others. A Gallian sorcerer who had been able to cast a protective spell around himself which negated the magic that overpowered all the rest. He hid near the entrance of the room, watching in disbelief as Dracula methodically destroyed his own men, dragging each of them to the pool at the center and spilling their blood. He was terrified, and knew he needed to escape lest he share the same fate. He reinforced the protective spell, cloaking himself from detection as he slipped carefully away, back through the maze of the caverns. Though he was nearly paralyzed by fear, he did not allow himself to lose his head, and paid careful attention to each turn he took, backtracking as far as he could, putting as much distance between himself and the cavern as was possible before he collapsed from exhaustion.

“It took him days, but he managed to regain the surface intact, emerging exhausted and nearly delirious, but alive. He fled to the nearby village, where he was given safe haven and food, and a chance to rest. The villagers told him stories of the evil in the caves, that it could transform men to beasts, and that they stayed away from it at all costs. He didn’t tell them the details, but he did say that his whole party had perished. The villagers went together to the mouth of the cave and filled it with stone to prevent anyone else from trying to enter.

“The sorcerer left the village. He fled back to his homeland as soon as he could. Once he returned, he began to research beasts and evil magic, attempting to find proof of such things. He recorded his experiences with Vlad Dracula and their company of scholars, and spent the rest of his life devoted to research, but he never returned to Dacia. It is possible that he eventually became the progenitor of the Belmonts, seeing as his account has shown up in their book, but there is no proof of that.

“After the incident in the caves, Vlad Dracula Tepes was not seen again. He was presumed dead along with the others who’d followed him beneath the mountains. The knowledge he’d collected with his group of scholars was lost to time, and other civilizations rose and fell. Hundreds of years passed. The world changed, humans changed, but the mountains were eternal; cold and silent, buried in snow.

“Eventually, a castle materialized in what had become known as the Southern Carpathian mountains sometime around the year 600. There were some rough diagrams in the book. It was much smaller than the one you grew up in, Adrian, and the architecture was very different, but it just appeared there, out of nothing. It was inhabited by a single man, who introduced himself in the closest villages as Vlad Dracula Tepes. He claimed to be a scientist – a scholar in pursuit of knowledge, and was eager to find those of like mind, with whom he could discuss the truths of the world and the technological accomplishments of man.

“He was a strange, unnerving individual, despite his charismatic personality. His presence and unshakable confidence made people uncomfortable, but he was a perfect gentleman, overpaying for food and drink which he rarely finished, and moving more gracefully than his imposing figure would suggest. His eyes were a strange colour. He only visited the villages at night, or on the snowiest, cloudiest days. He kept himself wrapped tightly in his hooded cloak, and came with no carriage, seemingly appearing on the edge of the village, materializing out of the darkened forest beyond. He spoke in a long-dead dialect, but after the first months it faded and his speech shifted to match that of the villagers around him. He attracted women and men alike, and invited people to visit his castle in the mountains to partake of his collections of books, and to eat fine food and keep him company.

“The people, however, were suspicious, and soon anything which went wrong was attributed to the ominous castle which nobody recalled being built, inhabited by the strange man who had endless wealth and an inhuman grey pallor to his flesh. Finally, they declared him a demon, and refused him entry to their taverns and bookstores, casting him out and brandishing religious artifacts in effort to protect themselves. It was discovered that holy water and silver burned his flesh, and this provided them with the confirmation they were searching for.

“He made no overt effort to deny his nature or to stop them from testing him. He admitted what he was – a vampire, but also an educated man, and a scientist. He insisted that was his only interest – knowledge. Truth. He assured them he would not harm them so long as they left him in peace, but the people were wild with terror and his calm declarations fell on deaf ears.

“The nearby villages gathered together and plotted to destroy the castle. They laid siege to it by daylight, but they couldn’t penetrate its defenses. It was protected by Vlad Dracula’s considerable magic, and a small army of night creatures. As they approached, the light was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness. The siege failed, resulting in the deaths of many men. Dracula’s formidable temper was roused, and he openly feasted on their blood, his eyes blazing red with indignant ire at being attacked when he had done nothing in provocation. He made an example of those who dared to try and harm him, dispatching them violently with his claws and teeth. The survivors fled back to their homes, where the people set themselves to devising protections from the vampire’s evil, such as holy magic, wards, and spells. They covered their homes with holy sigils, consecrated their weapons, and didn’t venture outside at night.”

“In the months that followed, they attempted twice more to destroy the castle, but each time they were met with the same result. Then, it vanished. It moved, actually, disappearing and reappearing many miles away. The castle could teleport through magical means. It retreated deeper into the mountains, where Dracula would reshape and rebuild the damaged portions, updating it at times, or changing the exterior appearance. Myths and stories grew and warped surrounding the nature of the castle, but it was little more than hearsay until several hundred years later when the Belmonts came to Wallachia and began to methodically hunt the creatures of the night, and to record the hard facts of what they uncovered. That was also when the castle was rebuilt into what it looks like today.”

Sypha stopped speaking. The only sound in the room was the fire crackling behind them. She was a good storyteller, and Adrian was completely wrapped up in the imagery of her tale, the details easy for him to picture. When she looked at him he blinked, the spell broken by her pause.

“There was more in the book. Instances of the castle appearing in different places, and how it affected the world around it. Dracula tried again to connect with human society. Several times, actually, in numerous countries all over Europe and beyond. For over two centuries, when people came to the castle he received them as guests, and treated them well. He wanted to educate people, and help them, but they always feared him. Over and over they tried to kill him, and called him a demon when they could not. Eventually, he stopped trying, and began mounting people on pikes when they got too close. He changed, and so did the effect of the castle’s presence.

“Wherever it manifested after that turning point, darkness and storms came with it. The seasons shifted of their own accord. Plagues and sickness ravaged the nearby villages. Night creatures – which had always existed, but were few in number and not very powerful – appeared in droves, and with more aggression than before. They attacked towns and fed on the flesh of the living. And vampires began to show up in greater numbers. They were organized, when prior to this they had been mostly disjointed clans and nests. They had always been intelligent, but previously, their violent nature prevented them from maintaining order among their own kind. Their hunger for power and control over human populations led them to war with one another frequently, and as a result they never maintained their hold for very long before they were unseated by rival factions.

“Shunned by humanity, Dracula sought out the vampires and slowly won their allegiance, building himself an empire. His power was immense, and they respected and feared him. He united them and implemented rulers for each area of Europe and beyond. They obeyed him, and found great success under him. He proved himself a patient and capable leader, but punished disobedience severely. None would cross him, lest they end up mounted on a pike in front of the castle. That has persisted for nearly 700 years.

“There were a few exceptions to Dracula’s hatred of humans in that time. A handful of friendships or romantic pursuits, but typically they ended in bloodshed through one avenue or another. Leon Belmont was one such example – he was close with Dracula at one point. Whatever happened between them, it resulted in Leon dedicating the rest of his life to the destruction of vampires, night creatures, and the castle, and that goal has been passed down for the last 400 years, as you both already know. There are references here to Leon’s personal writings, which are sealed within the Belmont Hold. We could find them if we wanted to know more about that.”

Sypha grew quiet, letting the rest of the story sink in. She relaxed against Adrian’s chest, indicating that she was finished speaking.

He sighed heavily, thinking of all the war and death and blood on his father’s hands.

He was well aware of his father’s accomplishments. He knew he was responsible for lifting the vampires to power and that he’d personally implemented the structure they adhered to, personally written the(few) laws they abided. He’d organized them and given them the means to control human populations, and it had worked extremely well.

His father was a conqueror. He was a war chieftain. He was a king with a reign that had gone largely uncontested for seven centuries. Adrian knew what he was. He’d seen some of it firsthand, and he had been groomed his entire life to follow in this footsteps. He knew why people feared him. He had earned that fear through bloodshed and brutality.

It was still hard for him to reconcile that with the father who had patiently taught him his lessons as a child, or with the tender, loving husband filled with adoration for his wife. How Lisa had managed to get under his skin and touch his cold heart Adrian didn’t know, but she had, and there was no question that she held it, even in death. She was the only thing that had power over him; his love for her transcended all of his monstrosity and made him seem human.

Adrian wanted to leave, suddenly. He wanted time to process and absorb. He didn’t want to hear more, and he didn’t want to speak about the visions. It was his first instinct to simply escape all of it by running, but he forced it down.

He wilted, closing his eyes and leaning against Sypha’s cheek as he recalled the first vision, of the strange room within the castle that contained the pool of blood. It was obviously the same place described in Sypha’s story.

Had he really constructed the whole castle around it? Had it somehow made him a vampire? And far more importantly – how was he controlling it? Obviously something major transpired in the countless centuries that were not recorded by the book. There were important details missing.

“Sypha, was there anything else? Anything about how he might be controlling the castle, or where it came from?”

Sypha shook her head. “No, the entry ended there. I will keep looking though, when I can. Hana will ask us all to help her with some things tomorrow. She needs food, meat. She might ask you to hunt for her, Adrian, and I think you should. Maybe while you are out doing that I can look again, see what I've missed. It’s a very large book. Every time I open it it seems like there is something new.”

“What did you see in the visions?” Trevor asked abruptly. He’d been listening to Sypha speak, his eyes trained attentively on her face, but now he adjusted his focus to Adrian, pinning him with his shrewd stare.

Adrian held his gaze, watching the firelight flicker in his eyes. Eventually he looked to the side, recalling. “The thing from Sypha’s story – the thing they found in the caves – it’s in the castle,” he said in a low tone, shivering at the memory. “It felt- it was pure Chaos. Wild. Untamed. It was impossible to resist, and even in the vision it was overwhelming to me. It made me thirst, made me feel like my magic was bubbling up, overflowing. It-

Adrian cut off abruptly, breathing, trying to find the words to describe the way it made him feel. “It twisted my thoughts. It drew me in, and there was nothing I could do to resist. I saw Father in the vision as well, and when he came close to it the feeling disappeared as though he had something to shield it or counter its effect. The madness vanished, and returned again when he left the room. It’s deep in the castle where I’ve never been before. He may have actually constructed the whole thing around the crevice itself. It was filled with blood and had vessels branching out of it, feeding into the walls. It had a pulse, like you described in the cave, Sypha. A heartbeat.”

“For God’s sake,” Trevor muttered, raking his hand back through his spiky hair. “How are we supposed to fight a- what do we even call it? An evil blood pool?”

“Not fight,” Sypha interjected. “I doubt it can be destroyed. Perhaps it could be bound, or returned deep into the Earth where it originated. But we can’t fight it.”

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” Trevor groused, looking irritated and tired. He rubbed at his neck, picking at the tentative scabbing there and frowning when he reopened the wound by accident. Adrian’s eyes lingered helplessly on it for a long moment.

“Sypha is probably right,” he agreed finally, shifting her in his lap so he could reach Trevor, gently pulling his hand away from his neck to keep him from worrying at the bite. Trevor’s fingers relaxed in his. “We cannot look at this like an opponent on a battlefield. This isn’t something we can defeat in a traditional sense. This kind of magic is ancient, as old as the Earth itself. It is exponentially greater than we are. It’s dangerous.”

Trevor scoffed, pulling his hand back to himself. “Dracula’s controlling it. It’s possible. We’re just missing something.”

“Trevor, it’s not that simple,” Sypha argued.

The hunter snorted. “Sure it is, or it will be once we know what to do. You should read that whole book from cover to cover. There’s got to be more in there, something we can use. I don’t know shit about magic, or any of this, really, but we are here for a reason. Hana knew we were coming. She knows more than she’s telling us. Tomorrow we are going to sit her down and get some answers.”

Sypha’s brows drew together and she glared at him. “She’s a fragile old woman Trevor, why would she hide anything? You can’t force her to tell us something she doesn’t know.”

Trevor was focused intently on the woman in question, who still lay deeply asleep beneath the quilts. He was glowering at her suspiciously, but his shoulders sagged after a moment and when he turned his attention back to Adrian and Sypha he looked deflated. “I don’t know how to beat an enemy I can’t fight head-on, or at least outsmart. I can’t even use the books in my own stupid library. I hate being useless. This sucks.”

Sypha patted his knee. “I know, honey. I know you want to rush in and slay the monster and ride home with it’s head as a trophy, but this isn’t that kind of enemy. We can talk to Hana more tomorrow, and I think you should at least take a look in your family’s book as well. I know you aren’t magical, Trevor, but you _are_ a Belmont. It’s your book. At least look at it.”

Trevor gave Sypha a cynical expression, crossing his arms. “Sure, I can look at the pictures,” he snarked, pouting.

Adrian found himself working not to smile at the petulant expression on the grizzled hunter’s face. This was hardly the time for humour. He refocused on the matter at hand, taking Sypha’s fingers in his own.

“I suspect the only way to uncover the information we seek is from Father’s personal memoirs. We won’t be able to access those while he lives. I’m not confident that any of us would stand much of a chance against this without employing whatever he has developed to counter it. The other things I saw, the possible future that we face is- it’s dismal.”

Adrian proceeded to explain – in as much detail as he possibly could – everything else he’d seen during the vision spell. He told them of their successful battle with Dracula, and of the frightening future that had unfolded afterwards. He tried to communicate the things he’d felt, they way the castle itself had radiated an aura that drew humans and vampires alike to try and take control of it. He told them of their future selves, of their scars and the dead look in all of their eyes. He explained the sense of possessiveness and domination that had pervaded all else, and the unnatural darkness which shrouded the whole area.

“I was not myself,” Adrian whispered, his fingers tightening around Sypha’s. “None of us were. In truth, I think that killing Father may actually cause more harm than good. Perhaps we are meant to persuade him to stop his war somehow, rather than destroying him. He may be the only one capable of controlling the castle properly. Whatever power resides within it, Father is able to negate its effect totally, and he is still doing so, or it would be affecting everyone like it did in the visions.”

He looked down at his hand in Sypha’s. His eyes darkened. “I was not prepared for this – an enemy we can’t simply defeat in battle. Our actions will affect more than only ourselves. It looked as though we’d been fighting for decades in the vision, and there was no sign of it ending. I can’t live that way. I would not ask it of you, either. And I would not sentence all of Wallachia to endless war.”

Trevor shook his head. “We _have_ to kill him. He’s murdering the _entire human race_. Or did that slip your mind? Maybe we need to go back to the Hold. The story said that there was a sorcerer who resisted the- uh- whatever the thing was in the cave. He was able to escape. What kind of magic did he use? Maybe we can try that.”

Sypha pondered. “I don’t know, Trev. Adrian, do you know?”

“No!” Adrian snapped before he could temper his growing agitation. He hated feeling helpless just as much as Trevor did. He grit his teeth and swallowed the sudden desire to snarl. “Chaos comes naturally to me, where its antithesis is beyond my skill or teaching. As I already told you before, Father is extremely secretive. He would never teach me anything that could be a threat to him.”

“It’s okay,” Sypha soothed, trying to calm him with a hand on the side of his face. His jaw was set hard, and he was stiff against her, barely feeling her touch.

“It’s not,” he hissed angrily, eyes flashing. “Until now, our plan has always been to simply gain the castle and defeat Father. Now we have no plan.”

“We’re pretty much fucked,” Trevor added helpfully.

There was a small noise from the couch and they all looked over to Hana, who was stiff and appeared to be in some distress, her face pinched and drawn.

Sypha rubbed Adrian’s chest in attempt to pacify him. “Try to calm down, I think you’re upsetting Hana.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, the anger evaporating quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m- I don’t know what to do. People are dying.”

Sypha nodded. “I know, sweetheart, but we can’t solve this tonight. It’s late. Hana is recovering, and we’re all tired. We should sleep, and come back with fresh eyes in the morning.”

Trevor yawned, as if for emphasis. “You’re right. I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m beat.”

They agreed that it was time to call it a night, and everyone rose, spending a few minutes putting out the lanterns and topping up the fire for Hana. Sypha checked on her, finding her still deeply asleep. She adjusted the blankets for her and together the trio made their way as quietly as possible out of the house and back to the barn. Adrian jaunted ahead, remembering what state he and Trevor had left things in.

When Sypha and Trevor climbed the vertical ladder into the loft, they found a nest of clean, dry blankets already laid out for them in the hay mow. Adrian was sitting atop them, combing his fingers through his hair.

“God I am tired,” Trevor proclaimed when he reached the top of the ladder. He removed his boots and crawled into the bedding, flopping down in the center of it and pulling Adrian down against him. “C’mon Syph, we need you to keep us warm.”

Sypha smiled at the pair of them in the darkness and laid down on Trevor’s other side, letting him be in the middle, which was a bit of a change from usual. She curled herself against Trevor’s side, resting one hand on his broad chest. Adrian laid his fingers over hers, melding himself against Trevor’s other side and soaking in his heat.

“Mmmm, I could get used to this,” the hunter said with a smile in his voice, shifting until he was comfortably nestled between them. He scratched his neck again and Adrian caught his hand and pulled it away.

“Stop doing that. You keep reopening the wound. Let it heal or it will get infected.”

“Infected?”

“Yes. Uhm- it will fester. You need to keep it clean.”

“Oh.”

Adrian studied the mark, returning his hand over Sypha’s. She leaned up on her elbow so she could see him, though it was quite dark in the barn and Adrian suspected he was little more than a light-coloured blur to her.

“If you think for one minute that you’re going to keep him from picking at that you’re dreaming,” she snickered, leaning over Trevor to get closer.

Adrian met her halfway, their noses bumping together. They kissed slowly. Adrian made himself relax, trying to leave behind his anxiety over everything that loomed ahead. He was here with them now, and he had to be thankful for that, at the very least. Every minute together was precious.

Sypha yawned when they pulled apart, settling back into her place beside Trevor. She gave him a kiss as well before she laid down, her head on his bicep. By the sound of it, the he was already drifting off, his eyes closed, his breath deepening and slowing. Adrian pulled the blankets higher around all of them then returned his hand to the broad chest, finding Sypha’s fingers once more. He nestled into the crook of Trevor’s neck, his nose and lips just over his bite. He cleaned it gently, licking it methodically.

It was a strangely self-soothing activity, and he found his eyes drooping as he tended the bite, the tug of sleep finally pulling him down.

He closed his eyes. Behind his lids he saw visions.

He saw the things from the story Sypha had recounted, imagining them as if he’d witnessed them firsthand. He saw pools of blood and awful futures where his lovers were battered by fighting. He saw a world shredded and warring, and he started awake after only a minute, jolting up and panting, gripping Sypha’s hand too hard in the darkness, his shoulders shuddering as he fought back the images.

He lowered himself back into the same position, laying his lips over Trevor’s skin and breathing in the reassuring scent of him, and of Sypha beside him.

They would find a way to change what he’d seen. There was no possible way he would allow those awful things to come to fruition as long as he lived. Together they were strong, and they would succeed.

They had to.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

The following morning came too soon. It had been a late night, and all of them were tired still, but Sypha had to get up to pee, and when she came back she woke up Adrian, and Trevor had managed to splay himself obnoxiously out in a manner that left her no place to lie down. So she crawled in between the men, and Trevor veritably _growled_ at her, complaining that her feet were freezing before he slipped off again, turning his back to them.

They nestled together face to face, Adrian’s arm around her, and Sypha’s back pressed against the heat of Trevor’s body.

“It’s snowing today,” she said, playing with his hair and chest, her eyes lidded as she sank back into the warmth between them with a contented smile.

Her feet _were_ freezing, even Adrian could feel how cold they were against his legs.

“I love the snow. When I was little I would play in it with the other Speaker kids. There weren’t many of us, but our tribe would band together with others during the colder months to share resources. Then there were more kids to play with.”

“You don’t often talk about your childhood,” Adrian said, enjoying her fingertips on his skin. “Will you tell me about your family?”

She nodded, smiling at him. “I was born in the caravan, in winter. My mother died in childbirth, and my father died of illness the following spring. I stayed in the care of my grandfather. I never knew my parents, so I don’t miss them, and I’ve always had family around me. My tribe is my family, even though most of us are not related by blood. It is one of our customs, that we don’t stay too long in the same group. Usually we move around every few years. It allows us to share our oral histories with each other, and find a partner if we wish to have children. I would have gone to another tribe this year if I had not left to travel with you and Trevor, I stayed longer than most because of the war. I wanted to protect my grandfather. He works so hard to help others, but sometimes he forgets to look after himself. I hope he’s alright,” Sypha grew quiet, obviously thinking of her family.

Adrian gave her the chance to reflect, knowing he had spent plenty of time brooding on his own family, and lamenting the things he’d lost. He kissed Sypha’s forehead tenderly, carding his fingers through her short curls.

“Hopefully we can find him again soon, and you can tell all of them about our adventures,” he said to her.

“I’d like that, Adrian. Sometimes it feels surreal to be away from them. I’ve always been around a lot of people. These past months with you and Trevor have taught me more about being alone than I expected it would. I’m not used to it. It’s so quiet, especially at night. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep without the feeling of others all around me. I’m actually glad that Trev snores, just so I know he’s there.”

Adrian chuckled at that. “It’s the opposite for me. Being with you both has taught me more about being close to people than I’d even known before. It was very much an exercise in patience and trust at the beginning, especially trying to sleep. I suppose I was a bit spoiled, being an only child, being doted on by my parents and having everything I wanted. I’m still not used to sleeping on the ground, or having to wear the same clothes every day. I miss the comforts of home. But it was good that I met both of you. It forced me to learn new things. I’ve never had to share anything, or compromise. As a child, I didn’t have peers. I would imagine that is the opposite of your own experiences. You must have had others around your age?”

“Yes, there were always a few, even in the summer. We would play together, and take our lessons together. Learning is a lifelong undertaking for my people. It is very important that we speak many languages, and read them also. Communication is essential for us. So those things are taught in structured lessons from as early as possible. When we understand something, we are expected to be able to teach it to someone else. Each of us is both student and teacher. I-uhm, I was a little stubborn. When I was much younger I had a hard time paying attention in the lessons. I’m sure that seems funny, since I love to read so much, but it was hard to concentrate. My magic was a lot stronger than any of the others’, and it was more fun to set things on fire and freeze them solid than it was to learn to read six different languages, then teach my brothers and sisters to read too.”

“So you could perform magic from a young age?”

Sypha laughed, sliding against Adrian, curling her leg around his thigh. He felt her center press against him, warm and welcoming through their clothes. He tightened his hold on her.

“Oh yes, from the time I was barely four. I could always feel magic, and it was so easy to play with. Ice was the first element I could manipulate. Fire came soon after. Grandfather was overjoyed – he thought it was a wonderful gift. Only a handful of Speaker children have the gift of magic, and fewer still can work more than one element, but for me it was easy. And it was fun. The first thing I learned to do was to freeze water, but soon I figured out how to conjure ice from thin air. I even made it snow.”

Adrian tightened his arm around Sypha’s pinched waist, splaying his hand over her back and gently crushing her body closer. He smiled as her words brought up some of his own happy memories. “When I was really little, I had a lot of fun with my abilities too. Mother could never catch me or contain me. And Father seemed amused when I used my gifts, so he wasn’t terribly motivated to discipline me at that point. Actually, he encouraged me.”

“I’m sure your mom was thrilled,” Sypha said with a laugh.

“She eventually persuaded Father that I needed to behave myself, but she was rarely angry with me, even if I got into trouble, which I did quite a lot at that time. She never yelled. She would reason with me, explain why she didn’t want me floating to the ceiling or running around faster than she could see, or turning into a wolf when we were out at the market. She cautioned that I needed to be careful around humans, because they might be scared or I could accidentally hurt them. I didn’t really understand people yet. I was kind of afraid of human kids, actually. I used to hide in Mother’s skirts so they couldn’t see me, but by the time I was six I was already as tall as her, and she said I was too big to do that any longer. So I just stayed close to her, and tried not to let anyone see me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Sypha said, her eyes soft. “Didn’t you have any friends?”

Adrian shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I already looked as I do now when I was ten. In many ways I was an adult then, but in so many others I was still very much a child. It was difficult for me to socialize with human children, no matter what age I was. I was very quiet. I didn't know how to talk to people at all, and they were so loud and overwhelming anyhow. If they spoke to me I would respond in as few words as possible. Mother would make me introduce myself to people to be polite, but past that I did everything I could to avoid them. I… was curious sometimes. About human children, I mean. I would watch them, follow them, but I didn’t engage with them or let them see me. It was for the best. Father didn’t trust them anyhow, and he told me about how humans treated vampires, and what they would do to me if they found me out. So I behaved.”

Sypha trailed her hand over the angles of Adrian’s face, following the line of his nose and lips. “It must have been lonely. I’ve always had so many people around, I was never by myself.”

He closed his eyes, letting her fingers slide over the skin of his eyelids and brush his lashes. “I suppose it was, but I had my parents, and my studies. Endless books to read, toys to play with. And I spent a lot of time in the forest, running or hunting. I made a game of following the wolves and sometimes playing with them. They’re very curious, though they don’t trust easily. Of course, they’re only animals, but I had fun anyhow. It seemed normal. I never thought I was missing out on anything, except maybe once I was in my teens and I went to live in Targoviste with mother. Then, I realized how poorly equipped I was to interact with people. I was interested in women, but I was too shy to talk to any of them.”

Sypha kissed his nose. “I’m sure they were not very shy about talking to you,” she teased, and Adrian blushed.

“They weren’t. There was a seemingly endless string of young women who developed all manner of ailments and injuries once they learned I was living at the cottage with mother. They were always conveniently dressed in their good clothes and freshly bathed when they just happened to be injured and require the doctor. I could hear their heartbeats pick up when they spoke to me, and smell their excitement… I knew what they were doing, but there were too many reasons to stay away. Father had essentially convinced me that no human would ever tolerate me if they knew what I was, but Mother disagreed, for obvious reasons. She encouraged me to get to know them, even to try courting a few of them once I was older. Still, she was no less insistent that I be very careful never to reveal my nature. That was hardly a risk, since I was so shy that I never did work up the courage to have more than a brief conversation with most people.”

“Never?”

“It was terrifying, Sypha. Even something as simple as smiling or speaking might reveal my fangs. Surely you understand – you had to keep your magic a secret as well, didn’t you?”

“From outsiders, yes, but not within my tribe. Sort of like you with your parents, I think. You could be yourself with your family. So could I. It just happened to be a really big family.”

They grew quiet for a moment, each of them thinking, and enjoying their closeness. Sypha suddenly grinned. “Adrian I would have eaten you alive,” she said with a glitter in her eyes.

He snorted. “I think you have that reversed,” he pointed out, but she shook her head.

“Nope. I was never shy at all; I was fearless. Speakers are very social, of course, but we usually stick to our own people. I talked to everybody, Speaker or not. You wouldn’t have been able to keep me away,” she insisted, punctuating that with a kiss. When she spoke again her tone was a little more serious, gentler. “I think we would have become friends if we’d met. I wish I’d known you sooner. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

He considered that, studying her large, expressive eyes. “I didn’t mind being alone. It was fine.”

Sypha’s face fell and she stroked his chest, leaning into him. “But it’s better now, isn’t it? With us?”

He put his nose into her hair and nodded against her. “Of course it is, Sypha. I feel more… human when I am with you. You’ve both helped me with that; I’m more at ease than I used to be, especially in busy places, like pubs and markets. It would have made Mother happy, I think.”

Sypha tilted her head up so she could kiss him. “I’m sure she was already very happy with you Adrian. I doubt you gave her half as much grief as I gave my grandfather and the other Speakers. I was a lot of trouble. They were always bailing me out when I got in over my head. I was never afraid of getting hurt because I knew I could easily defend myself, so I wasn’t very cautious about where I went or who I spoke to. But I tended to forget that people hated us, and were always looking for excuses to target us. I forgot to be careful of my magic sometimes, because it was so natural to use it. I was seen, more than once, and our whole caravan was driven out of cities or villages, often by an angry mob waving torches and pitchforks. The other Speakers were frustrated with me, but Grandfather was always patient. He explained to me over and over how I needed to use my gifts carefully, so that outsiders didn’t see. They would fear what they didn’t understand.”

Adrian sighed wistfully, his eyes growing glassy. “Yes, they definitely fear what they don’t understand. If they had just been more tolerant, Mother would be alive, and we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Sypha shook her head, her fingers curled against his chest. “No Adrian. You can’t know what might have happened. All we can do is accept what we’re given and do out best. I asked grandfather once why it was me who had so much magic. People were nervous of me, even in our own tribe. Especially once I learned to work fire. It scared them. One time I had a nightmare about something – just a silly dream – but I set our wagon on fire by accident. It caught a nearby field and it was a huge inferno. I was able to dispel the flames once I woke up properly and realized what I’d done, but after that nobody would sleep near me for months. I was so upset, and I asked my grandfather why it had to be me with so much magic. That’s what he told me – that I had to accept what I was given, and do my best. Eventually the others got over their fear, and they were very glad of my abilities when the night creatures started to attack people. I was able to defend everyone and keep us all safe.”

“Is that why they chose you to go into the catacombs and look for me in Gresit?”

Sypha blushed, which Adrian hadn’t expected. He could feel her skin flushing hotly, her cheeks darkening to scarlet.

“Oh… no. They- um- they didn’t send me at all. The prophecy wasn’t fulfilled – there was no hunter. I was told in no uncertain terms to stay with the others and wait. Grandfather was always so patient… but I’m not. I wanted to see what was down there. I wanted to know if you were real. Every day I saw people dying. There were so many awful things happening that it felt as though we had no time to wait around. I fought with them all. I yelled at grandfather. And when the rest of them were sleeping in the early morning, I snuck out and went down into the catacombs.”

“And got turned to stone by the cyclops.”

Sypha blushed harder, squirming. Adrian’s mouth tugged into a smile at her embarrassment. “Yes.”

“And Trevor rescued you.”

The man himself rolled over at that moment, wrapping a burly arm around Sypha and pulling her against his body indulgently, planting sloppy kisses on her neck. “Oh I rescued her alright.”

“You climbed on me,” she said, sounding incredibly offended.

“And you puked on me, so we’re even.”

Adrian watched them with amusement, Sypha protesting Trevor’s hold, but succumbing quickly to his hands on her as he kneaded her breasts through her dress and crushed her in his arms. He growled “Good Morning,” into her ear then bit her clavicle hard enough to leave an impression of his teeth on her skin. She squawked and twisted in his grasp, trying to kick hid shins.

“Trevor Belmont you let me go right now or you will be sorry,” she threatened in a dangerous tone.

“Hmm,” Trevor said playfully, as though contemplating his options. He rolled onto her and Adrian heard a wheeze as the air was forced from her lungs under his weight. “No, I think I have you right where I want you,” he drawled, glancing at Adrian deviously. Sypha looked at him too, either incredulous or furious that he hadn’t already pried Trevor off of her.

It wasn’t fair to take sides, he knew it wasn’t. And he should be on Sypha’s side, probably, but it was good to see them playful and happy. He showed his teeth and rolled closer, trapping Sypha’s kicking leg under his own and pinning one of her arms effortlessly with his hand. He ran a light fingertip up her side, tickling her ribs.

“Ah! NOT FAIR! Let me GO!” she shrieked, squirming and wiggling and trying to get herself free from the pair’s unfair entrapment. Trevor’s mouth found her neck again once he had her more securely pinned and he teased her with the tip of his tongue, dragging it along, up to her ear. He jammed it into her ear and she screamed and tried to buck him off, her voice cracking with a mixture of laughter and fury.

Trevor gave her a crooked smile. “Sorry Syph, I couldn’t resist,” he said sweetly, stroking her cheek. She tried to bite him, but he snatched his hand away before she could, and her teeth clicked together, empty.

“Hey now, I think Adrian already did enough of that last night. But if you’d like something in your mouth you could blow me,” he suggested lewdly, grinding himself against her hip.

“I will bite your cock off if you put it anywhere near me you filthy beast,” Sypha spat, seething.

Despite her venomous protests, Adrian could hear her heart thundering, and he could smell her becoming excited. He’d never seen Trevor work her up quite like this before, but he had to admit they both seemed familiar enough with the game. It couldn’t hurt to let it go on a little longer…

“Hmm, then maybe we’ll keep your mouth occupied while I fuck you instead,” the hunter answered without missing a beat, kissing her and pulling quickly away when she tried to snap her teeth at him again. Adrian smelled Trevor’s blood and realized that she’d managed to re-open the wound on his tongue. She struggled beneath them, cursing. Trevor shifted his weight, grinning at Adrian, his teeth pink. “You keep her mouth busy. If she bites you, you can just bite her back,” he said smugly as he leaned against the dhampir so they were shoulder to shoulder atop Sypha.

Trevor seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He ignored Sypha’s threats in favour of kissing Adrian in front of her, plundering his mouth indulgently and making sure that Sypha had a clear view of them. Her protestations eased. Adrian found himself completely pulled into the kiss, which was sweetened by the hint of blood in it. He was thinking of the night before and soon his cheeks stained with blush as he let Trevor claim his lips, leaving him flustered and warm all over.

When they parted Adrian was breathless, his body tingling. He gave Sypha a guilty, flushed look, unable to conceal how much he’d enjoyed Trevor’s kiss. He studied her mouth, looking for evidence that she might let him kiss her now as well. He dipped towards her.

Trevor left Adrian to that as he moved between her legs. He pushed up her dress, spreading her knees open and avoiding her when she aimed a wayward kick at him.

Her scent grew much stronger when it wasn’t covered by the wool dress any longer. It curled through Adrian’s head and slowed down his thoughts, bringing his focus to the feel of their bodies and his own. He blinked at her. She looked like an angry cat, trying to escape Trevor’s hands, which were now roughly grasping her hips, his thumbs digging against her skin. She was beautiful.

“Uhm, Sypha, should we stop?” he asked her, trying not to rub his growing firmness against her, but failing miserably.

Sypha tugged Adrian onto her by his hair and kissed him rather roughly. He braced himself with one hand beside her head, leaning over her and studying her face. “I like it when Trevor is rough with me. Just play along. Or watch. Whatever you like,” she whispered against him before releasing him so she could see where she was trying to kick.

Trevor caught her heel and forced her leg up and her eyes widened, realizing that he’d pinned her and was settled between her legs already. He glanced at Adrian, grinned absolutely lecherously, and deftly unlaced his breeches, freeing himself.

Adrian opted to watch, sinking against Sypha and listening to her ragged breaths hitch when Trevor pushed into her in a single, unforgiving movement. Her body tensed against him and then she groaned in enjoyment, her hips jerking up to meet Trevor’s. Adrian found himself more than content to simply absorb their sounds and the feel of them both, watching the way their bodies moved together and enjoying the scent of their sex.

Afterwards, When Trevor lay atop her panting for breath and Adrian lay beside her, still hard in his pants, Sypha put an arm around each of them and kissed their foreheads and told them she loved them.

Adrian relaxed against her, running his fingers along her damp skin, appreciating her and urging himself to ignore his own excitement. He didn’t need to find release every time he was aroused. It would dissipate on its own. He closed his eyes, but they shot open when he saw a flash of light through his closed lids and felt the tingle of magic in the air.

“What-

“Sypha!”

“There, now I can enjoy you without him getting in the way,” she said sweetly, the cold smell of her ice magic hovering around her. Adrian gulped, peering over her at Trevor, who was struggling fruitlessly in the hay. His hands were frozen together over his head by thick icy manacles. His ankles were frozen similarly.

“Sypha! Goddammit, undo this! It’s cold! Hey! Are you listening to me!?” he protested, sounding indignant, but still a little pathetic.

“That’s mean,” Adrian said, feeling sorry for him.

“You can let him out when we’re done,” she answered, her hand making contact with the front of his pants, rubbing his erection and effectively distracting him away from Trevor’s plight.

A few minutes later Adrian was the one trying to catch his breath, his face slack with pleasure, and Sypha was standing beside both men, smoothing wrinkles from her dress and wiping the corner of her mouth. She reached for her boots and glanced back at them. “See you at breakfast boys,” she said, before disappearing down the ladder.

“I’m going to kill her,” Trevor growled.

Adrian was still a little dazed, laying on his back where Sypha had left him, his breeches still unlaced. She was _really_ good at that. He felt like jelly. He looked at Trevor sleepily, offering him a dumb smile.

“For God’s sake shut up,” Trevor grouched, glaring at him. “And help me,” he added, struggling. The ice on his arms and legs was too thick for him to break, and by now it must certainly be burning his skin painfully.

Adrian raised a brow, sitting up slowly and tucking himself back into place. “I didn’t say anything,” he pointed out, tracing the line of Trevor’s thigh with his fingertip.

“I will strangle you with the Morning Star,” the hunter threatened, glaring reproachfully.

“I’m willing to risk it,” he said, rising and donning his boots, lacing them slowly so he could watch Trevor squirm and listen to him hurl insults and threats. “I wonder what Hana’s got for breakfast, I’m starved,” he said, patting his stomach and making for the ladder.

“Adrian! Don’t leave me here… come ooonnnnn” Trevor whined, wiggling like a wounded caterpillar, the muscles in his arms flexing as he strained against his bonds.

The dhampir sauntered back to his side, staring down at him. “You’ll melt free eventually,” he teased, poking Trevor with his boot.

The hunter gave the blonde a flat look. “You _do_ know she was into that, right? She came twice. You were there.”

Adrian considered that, deliberating. Trevor wasn’t wrong. Finally his soft heart caved, and he put his hands around the ice on his wrists and crushed it, then repeated the action on his ankle bindings. Trevor rubbed his frozen skin, trying to get feeling back into the flesh.

“What the hell have I got myself into,” he muttered, and Adrian hauled him to his feet and kissed him.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really going off on my own path with this. Why would you want to read the same story you already know anyway? Bo-ring! Hopefully my take on Dracula's past is interesting. Did you like it? Hate it? Fall asleep halfway through?
> 
> I am no expert on historical geography, but I did my best! Thanks Wikipedia!
> 
> Some really serious stuff in this chapter and then fluff because I could not make a whole chapter of doom and gloom. Really, I could write sooooo much just about Adrian growing up and being this extremely awkward and painfully shy boi who looks like a man but still wants to hide behind his mom. Maybe that will be my next project.
> 
> I'm working hard on trying to incorporate more dialogue and less random introspection in an effort to grow as a writer. Is it working?
> 
> Please REVIEW! Thank you for looking!


	33. Part Thirty-Three

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-Three**

When Adrian and Trevor came into the house Hana was seated at her table with a hot cup of tea, appearing no worse for wear. Behind her, the window was letting in the muted grey of the day. A thin dusting of snow already coated everything, and it continued to fall in puffy, fat flakes that were accumulating quickly.

Inside, the smell of baking bread permeated the entire house. Beneath that clung the ever-present scent of different herbs, once again reminding Adrian of his mother’s surgery in Targoviste.

Sypha – predictably – had her nose buried in a book already, and she was also enjoying some tea. She glanced up at the boys when they came in and smiled, meeting Trevor’s indignant glare with feigned innocence.

“It’s about time you two got up,” Hana said dryly, glancing out the window as though she were making note of how late it was. “There is much to do. If you’re hungry for anything besides tea you’ll need to fetch some wood and fresh water. Check the chicken coop for eggs. I think some of the hens are still laying, and milk that goat. She’s been complaining for hours and the noise is driving me mad.”

She leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, relaxing into it with every expectation that her guests would do as she asked. Her hair was back in its long braid, which draped over one shoulder. She radiated strength, but Adrian was able to see the hollowness under her eyes – perhaps she was not as well-off as she endeavoured to appear.

Trevor glared at her and pulled a chair out for himself. “Where do you get off ordering us around?”

Hana turned her small black eyes on him, meeting the challenge. Sypha glanced at Adrian and they shared a mutual, amused expression.

Trevor sank into the chair, resting his elbows on the table in a gesture that said he wasn’t going to move. Hana picked up her teacup in both hands. She grasped it carefully, her twisted fingers struggling to bend around its circumference. She sipped, savoured the warmth as she swallowed, then set the cup down again.

“Surely you have some notion of how rude it is to deny an old woman a little help. I took a great risk allowing all of you into the safety of my home.”

Trevor opened his mouth to retort and Adrian closed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing too hard and interrupting him. “Of course we’ll help,” he said sharply. “We’ll be right back. Come on _Belmont_ ,” he grated, dragging Trevor behind him.

They emerged into the yard, Trevor’s breath making little puffs of vapor when he exhaled. He looked tired – he had bags beneath his eyes. Lack of sleep was most likely the reason, but it did occur to the dhampir that he’d taken quite a lot of Trevor’s blood as well. The wound was hidden by his newly restored fur cloak, but he was well aware of it.

“You don’t have to be so rude to her,” he chided, grabbing the water pail to take to the well.

“She’s kind of an asshole. For an old lady, you know?”

“I think it’s her way of protecting herself, Trevor. She’s all alone here. She’s vulnerable.”

The hunter rubbed his face and shrugged. His stubble was getting thick, his chin and cheeks were darkened with the wiry hairs. They grew partway down his neck and his mustache was coming in as well. “Yeah, I know,” he answered, and Adrian could hear the sincerity in his voice. Trevor understood what it was to be alone; he’d been looking out for himself for a long time.

Adrian elbowed him conspiratorially then leaned on him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “I think she likes you, actually,” he teased with a toothy smirk.

Trevor shoved him away. “Oh my God, fuck off,” he said, sounding unnecessarily exasperated. “If that’s her being nice, I’d hate to see what she’s like with someone she hates,” the hunter deadpanned, his boots crunching in the thickening snow as he broke away from Adrian and went to look for eggs.

The pair completed the menial requests made of them and returned to the house, Adrian’s arms laden with chopped firewood, which he piled neatly beside the hearth. He brought fresh, cold water and filled the kettle, and Trevor tracked snow across the rugs as he brought in the brimming pail of milk and the eggs he’d collected.

In time, all four of them were seated at the table for a modest breakfast. Adrian gave Trevor his helping of eggs, and let Sypha have his milk. He was already plenty satiated, and was content to sip tea and nibble a piece of bread.

He wanted them to have more. He still didn’t like that he was taking from them and that they could grow weak because of it, and he didn’t need much food when he had a reasonably steady supply of blood. He knew he was getting stronger with the regular feedings. He’d even noticed his shirt was tighter in the chest, and his breeches stretched a little more over his thighs and calves. He’d never be as overtly muscular as Trevor was, but he wasn’t as lithe as he had been either.

And Trevor – he had mostly recovered from the different injuries he’d sustained in the past weeks. His nose had healed and the bruising was gone from under his eyes, and he had a fresh, pink line over his temple where he’d been struck by the night creature and concussed. Adrian knew it was contradictory that he was so protective over Trevor in the face of his injuries injuries, yet excited by the bite mark which decorated his neck, but couldn’t help it.

He traced his fingers absently along the grooves in the surface of the table which had been left by his claws, replaying everything from the night before. It had been a lot of different experiences. Meeting Hana. Seeing the castle. The visions. Trevor’s blood. Their sex, and then the revelations about his father and his home on top of it all. If he looked out of the window behind the table he could just see the dark spot on the horizon.

Was his father watching them? He had a Carpathian mirror, so it was certainly possible. He may have been watching them for weeks, and they would have no idea. Were they still going to kill him? What-

“Alucard, you’re brooding,” Hana remarked, interrupting his- er- brooding. He straightened in his chair, realizing that he’d sunk down in it, slouching unbecomingly, his chin resting propped on his hand.

“I’m just thinking,” he corrected, putting his hands around his teacup and looking at her.

Hana nodded in understanding. “You are bothered by what was revealed last night,” she pointed out, and Adrian was at once appreciative of her bluntness, and irked that she brought the matter up.

“Hana,” Sypha said, drawing everyone’s attention to her instead. “Were you able to see the same things that Alucard saw during the spell yesterday?”

Hana shivered, her hand going reflexively to her black amulet and stroking it. “No, thankfully I did not have to endure that, but I was quite aware of his experience. I’ve been seeing things about all of your lives for some time. I know how monumental your task is.”

Trevor took a long swallow from his cup – his mood had lightened markedly after Hana had plied him with ale to accompany his breakfast. “Monumental. Right. I think ‘impossible’ might be a better word for it. You know what’s in that castle, right?”

Hana regarded him for a long moment, and Trevor did not waver beneath her stare.

“Well you _do_ , don’t you?” he repeated, leaning closer on his elbows.

“Yes.” Hana answered, closing her eyes in memory. “I’ve seen awful things, but I don’t always understand what they are, or what I am meant to do. I must be careful about trying to interpret what is revealed to me. It’s not my place to decide what it means.”

Sypha pushed her cleaned plate away. “That makes sense, Hana. But we are confused about what our course of action should be. We don’t know what to do any longer.”

Hana shook her head. “I can’t tell you that,” she said apologetically. “You have to decide on your own. But you need not rush ahead unprepared. You may stay here while you consider your options. If you would be willing to assist me with a few other tasks, I would be happy to continue to share my provisions and let you stay within the safety of the protective barrier.”

“You just want to put us to work,” Trevor accused.

Hana’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “Of course I do. You’re young and strong. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Trevor. Don’t speak,” Sypha warned, leveling him with a dangerous look before he could voice his protest.

Trevor bit his tongue, settling back in his chair and finishing his ale instead.

The rest of the meal passed in a discussion – more of a list – of all the things Hana was hoping her guests would be kind enough to do for her while they were in residence, and the conversation remained pointedly devoid of any further mention of prophecy or the castle.

Adrian was thankful for the diversion. He truly did not mind being asked to do labour for a few hours. He took on the majority of the more physically demanding requests, completing them without complaint, and requiring no protection from the snow, which continued to fall throughout morning. He repaired a hole in the barn roof, fixed a broken window, chopped more firewood, replaced damaged portions of the porch, brought in supplies from a surprisingly well-stocked root cellar, and did a slew of other things that gave him time to think as he went through the motions.

Trevor was put to work sharpening knives and axes and mending a broken paddock gate, and Sypha helped Hana inside with processing herbs for medicinal and magical purposes, then helped to reorder her considerable collection of books, bringing them down from the taller shelves where she could no longer reach without assistance.

Eventually it was time for lunch – soup and bread – and all of them gathered again around the table. Adrian was completely devoid of warmth after spending so long outside. His hair was frozen at the tips and the melt water dripped down his chest as he came into the heat of the house. He actually felt condensation forming on his skin from the contrast in temperature. He wiped it from his face, soaking up the droplets with a towel.

“Are you _sweating_?” Trevor asked him in disbelief when he saw that Adrian’s shirt was clinging to his skin with moisture. It beaded on his arms.

“Of course not,” Adrian huffed, mildly offended at the suggestion that he’d break a sweat from manual labour. “It’s only the difference in temperature and some melting snow,” he explained when the hunter was unwilling to drop the matter.

“He’s just jealous that you are stronger than he is,” Sypha told him with an affectionate smile, planting a kiss on his mouth. When they broke apart she touched her lips with her fingers. “Oh, you _are_ cold.”

Trevor crossed his muscular arms and glared, although it lacked any real malevolence. “I am _not_ jealous!”

Adrian and Sypha both laughed.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same manner, and by the time evening was drawing in and the daylight waned, there was a thick layer of snow blanketing everything. Hana asked Adrian if he would bring her meat, and he nodded.

“Yes, if there are still any animals alive in the surrounding area, I will bring you what I can.” he assured, donning his coat. He glanced at Trevor and Sypha. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them behind, but he knew they would be alright. He knew Sypha was itching to get back into the Book, and she had informed Trevor that he would be looking as well, though he had made it more than clear what he thought of that.

“I’d be better off hunting with Alucard. I am literally a _hunter_ ,” he reasoned, one hand extended towards where the dhampir was lacing his boots in the entrance. “He shouldn’t go out there alone. What if he can’t get back inside?”

“I have this,” Adrian countered, gesturing to the plain stone that hung around his neck – the same one Hana had given him the day before. “I will be fine. I’m more than capable of handling myself,” he made a point of adjusting his sword belt, his fingers brushing the hilt of his weapon lightly.

Trevor quieted, but he seemed to accept that, because it was true. Alone, Adrian would not be a target for night creatures, and there was quite literally nothing in the forest that could hold a candle to him in a fight.

He relished the chance to have some quiet and some solitude anyhow, and he hoped that his companions could understand that. Of course he wanted to be with them, but he needed time alone as well, especially in light of so many revelations and anxieties. He also suspected that Hana wanted to speak with Sypha and Trevor when he was not present, and he didn’t mind giving her the opportunity to do so. Her dark eyes had been trained on him much of the afternoon, although she’d been quiet at lunch, and had mostly avoided him outside of setting him to various tasks.

“I’ll be back soon. You needn’t wait for me for your supper, I will manage,” he said, earning a snort from Trevor. Sypha swatted the back of his head. He glared at her, rubbing his head as if she’d properly struck him.

Sypha drew close to him and put her arms around his waist, leaning up on her toes so she could kiss his cheek. Adrian looked from Trevor to Hana, then back to the copper-haired girl against his chest. “You won’t let them fight?” he asked her.

“Like I could stop them,” she answered him dryly. “I won’t let it come to blows,” she promised, although she didn’t sound terribly enthused.

Adrian grinned and kissed her, then he disappeared from the entrance in a flash of red.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian chose to hunt as a wolf. His paws were well-suited to the deepening snow as he streaked over it, a flash of white in the blackness of the forest. It had become a very dark night. The moon was blocked out by the clouds, and it continued to snow, leaving the world blissfully barren and silent. The only sounds were his own panting breaths and the whistling of wind as he sped along at preternatural speed.

He had exited the protected perimeter of Hana’s land – promptly marking a nearby tree to ensure he could find the invisible entrance once he returned – then he was off, flying through the trees, putting distance between himself and the area he was already familiar with. He was curious about what the path towards the castle looked like, and decided to make this trip serve as a scouting mission as well as a search for game.

He could smell night creatures all over the forest, although he purposely avoided any altercations with them. There was not much left alive in their wake, and the silence of the entire area was unnatural, especially with the added effect of the snow.

Adrian found himself running further and further away, and soon the small foothills gave way to the base of the mountains, and he was breaking through the thicker trees, traversing large areas of featureless open land before he came to the next cover. He made note of areas they could rest or take cover, and plotted a course towards the castle. He couldn’t seem to help going to it. He was not drawn by any supernatural means – it was his heart which had taken him across many miles and inevitably closer to his home. He could not resist looking, even if it was from a distance.

The white wolf broke through a copse of spindly pines and came to a steep drop. He stood at its edge and looked out over the rocky landscape. This area was already buried in snow, and he knew it was going to be very difficult for humans to manage the terrain. He may actually have to carry them in some areas once the horses could no longer progress.

Unless…

Unless he went on by himself.

The thought hovered stubbornly in his mind, refusing to be dismissed. He could leave them behind right now and go ahead alone. The castle was right in front of him.

He stared at the cold countenance of the spires, almost delicate in the way they stretched upwards and thinned to nothing. He could just make out the shapes of windows in the towers, and thought of how wonderful the winter landscape would look from the other side of the glass. It was oddly darker than he was used to; normally there was a soft glow of firelight or blue electric light from within, but now the whole thing looked like a monolithic mass of shadow and blackness.

His home.

He whined, sitting in the snow, which was slowly building up on his fur now that he had stopped running.

His chest ached. His soul ached.

What was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do? He felt stuck, as though he couldn’t go forward or back, and no matter what decision he made it would be wrong.

Everything that had happened in the last year and a half seemed preposterous. What his father had done – was still doing – was insane. Sometimes he wondered if this was all one long and terrible nightmare, and that he’d wake up at any moment to find his mother alive, his father in possession of his faculties, and that Trevor and Sypha were little more than concoctions of his overactive imagination.

That was not the case. He really was here, sitting at the frozen edge of the world looking at his home, so close, but completely out of his reach, and forever changed. His mother was dead. His father was murderous with rage, and Adrian had to find a way to defeat him and contain a power that was beyond his understanding, or the future would hold nothing but misery.

With the castle looming massive and beautiful before him, Adrian felt so tiny and insignificant that it made him want to weep.

Instead, he tipped his head back and howled, the long, sad voice of the wolf saying the things he couldn’t form into words. He howled his sorrow. He howled until his voice was hoarse, and the reverberations bounced off of the mountains around him and surrounded him in his own eerie song, echoing even after he fell silent and simply sat, cold and motionless, his tears freezing along his muzzle.

He could go on alone. It would keep Trevor and Sypha safe. For for a little while, at least. He knew he couldn’t defeat his father by himself, but maybe he could speak to him, try once more to reason with him now that time had passed. It had been a year and a half since they’d battled. Maybe he would be more receptive now. Maybe he would see reason, or agree to relent his attack on the humans.

In any other situation, Adrian would seek his father’s advice. He felt like he needed it now more than ever, but he couldn’t have it, since his father was the enemy. His home was his enemy too.

He was torn between continuing his fight and simply giving in, surrendering and running home with his tail between his legs and his head low. His father probably wouldn’t kill him. He could just… stop fighting, and simply hide somewhere, lose himself in the twisting halls and ignore what was going on in the world outside.

But Adrian wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t going to turn his back on those who needed his help. He had too much to fight for.

He wouldn’t give up.

He looked once more at the still black silhouette, then turned and deliberately ran back the way he’d come, the white of his fur disappearing into the falling snow.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

It was late in the night when Adrian finally returned, dragging with him two large bucks. Their bulk was awkward and difficult to manage, and he had used his teleportation to transport them most of the way back, discovering in the process that he could, in fact, do so without causing them harm or burning them. Next, he would try it with something alive, and if he was successful, then he might attempt it with a human. He entered the barrier, noting that the snow had finally let up in the last hour, and the clouds were beginning to break up, allowing a faint hint of moonlight through.

As he drew into view of the house, he saw the faint glow of the hearth through the front window. The fire had burned down some time ago. Adrian took the animals to the game shed and began the tedious work of cleaning and processing, which had to be done before the meat froze entirely.

By the time he was finished he needed to wash, then he went into the house to warm up, even though he could hear Trevor and Sypha’s slow, unconscious breaths coming from the barn. They would not appreciate his icy presence in their bed anyhow, and it was better that he try to warm himself first. He silently crept onto the porch, wincing when one board groaned under his weight despite his caution. It wouldn’t be right to wake Hana, so he dissolved to mist, seeping beneath the crack at the bottom of the door rather than opening it.

He reformed in the center of the main room, facing the fire.

“That’s a handy trick,” observed a scratchy voice from behind him. Adrian started and whirled around, nearly leaping out of his skin at being taken unawares. He had thought her asleep, but she was not, and he hadn’t been paying close attention. He recovered quickly, trying not to let on that she’d surprised him.

“Uh- shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he said stupidly, taking in her loose hair and the thick wool robe she had wrapped around her body. She was sitting in the overstuffed armchair, her slippered feet propped on the matching ottoman, a mostly empty ale cup beside her.

“Should I?” she said, smiling and showing her stained teeth. “It’s hard to sleep with a vampire traipsing around my yard and sneaking into my home unannounced.”

“Dhampir,” he corrected, standing awkwardly in middle of the room.

“Whatever. Sit down, you’re too tall. My neck is stiff.”

Adrian obediently sat, taking up residence in the rocking chair opposite where Hana was seated. Her small black eyes followed him. Her hair was so long, it draped around her shoulders and pooled in her lap, the bits of silver catching the light of the embers that remained in the fireplace. The chair was warm, and it felt nice against Adrian’s frozen skin, which would slowly soak up the heat. He played absently with the arm, picking at a stray thread that had come unraveled. He didn’t know what to say.

As he watched from the corner of his eye, Hana tipped up her cup and finished her ale, her wrinkled throat bobbing as she swallowed. She set the empty cup to the side and folded her hands in her lap.

“Will I have enough meat to make it through the next few months?” she asked him pointedly.

“I hope so,” he answered, not sure how much she would actually need. “I could try for more tomorrow,” he offered, and she shook her head.

“That won’t be necessary, Alucard. I appreciate you doing that for me. I know that I have been demanding. I’d like to survive the winter, you see. There will not be anyone else along for some time. It will be awhile before the village can be restored.”

He thought about that, his fingers curling against the lumpy orange upholstery of the rocker. The colour clashed with his skin.

“But it will be? Restored? The village, I mean,” he said glancing at her.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “That depends on you, and on your two companions.”

He looked away, staring into the hearth, a line forming between his drawn brows. “I wanted to run away,” he admitted to her, not sure why he said it. He would never tell Trevor and Sypha about what he’d been thinking earlier, but now the words came, unbidden. “I went to it tonight. To the castle. Not all the way. But into the mountains so I could see it better. I… almost didn’t come back.”

Hana was still, simply listening to him. She didn’t fidget, and she didn’t urge him to continue, or speak immediately after he finished. His words hung in the air, and he felt ashamed at them.

“Not- not really. But I thought about it. What might happen if I went home. If I gave up. Seeing it there in front of me… so close I could almost smell it,” Adrian felt tears pricking his eyes and he blinked them closed, working to stop them before they could flow down his cheeks. “I wanted all of this to be over. I just want to go home,” he said in a barely audible voice, not even certain Hana could hear him.

“But you did come back,” she responded sharply, the words devoid of softness.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. The embers burned lower, painting the room in a strange mixture of dim orange and shadow.

“You will have to kill him,” Hana volunteered after a long silence, and Adrian grit his teeth at hearing it spoken aloud, even though he’d said it many times himself.

“I know,” he whispered as the tears finally spilled over his cheeks. “I know,” he repeated, his voice thick.

“I try not to draw too many conclusions from the things I see, but that detail is clear,” she elaborated, watching him as he swallowed carefully in effort to keep himself from crying anymore. Her fingers clutched the dark stone she wore around her neck, her gnarled thumb stroking the smooth surface. He breathed deeply, trying to compose himself. He knew she was affected by his mood.

“Don’t despair, Alucard. It doesn’t do any good.”

He wiped at his tears, sniffling. “Everyone is depending on me. I cannot fail, but he’s stronger than I am. And the castle…” his shoulders shook as he held in the sobs that threatened to break free. He hadn’t let it get to him before now. He’d managed to hold his personal feelings of self-doubt back, but tonight they were bigger than he was, and it was all he could do to keep himself together. Something about Hana made him want to confess his deepest fears, and admit that he didn’t know if he could take on the task before him. He couldn’t say these things to Trevor and Sypha, but he could tell this almost total stranger his deepest fear – that he would fail.

She gave him time to gather himself, sitting quietly and watching him fall apart and then slowly pull himself back together. He dried his eyes and sighed wearily, eventually looking at her again. “I’m sorry.”

She was unruffled. “Why?”

“For losing my composure. It was inappropriate.”

Hana snorted unattractively. “Oh I don’t care about that. You’re so serious about everything. You should be thankful you don’t age, or you’d look forty instead of twenty by now. Do you feel better?”

He nodded, schooling his expression to something neutral.

She smirked. “Good.”

They sat together, Adrian thoroughly wrapped up in his own thoughts, and Hana paying him little mind. Finally, she spoke.

“Your friends were quite productive, tonight.”

He looked up. “They were?”

She gave a slight nod. “They were. Did you know that Belmont can read that entire book, even the languages he is unfamiliar with? It knows his blood. He was able to see pages that the Speaker could not.”

Adrian’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Hana grinned, showing the holes in her smile where she was missing a couple of teeth. She laughed, the sound dry and raspy. “Yes. Sypha was furious.”

Adrian found himself smiling back at her. “That’s sounds about right.”

He rose and grabbed a pair of logs, arranging them in the hearth. He went back to his chair, curling his arms around his knees and resting his chin on them. His hair streamed around his shoulders.

Hana turned to look at him. “The solution is not as complicated as you believe it to be. Your father has already done most of the work, but it is still a heavy burden that you must bear, and it will not be easy. You will need them both – The Speaker, and the Belmont. They will be your deliverance.”

Adrian frowned at the way she was speaking, twisting the words and making them seem cryptic. “What does that mean? That I have a heavy burden? What do you know?”

Hana closed her eyes, taking a breath and exhaling slowly, rubbing her misshapen knuckles as though they pained her.

“I’m weary, Alucard. Bring me another ale if you are going to keep me up talking at all hours of the night.”

Adrian huffed at her nonchalance, rising and snatching her cup with more force than was necessary. He went into her kitchen and refilled it, suddenly understanding why Trevor found this tiny little woman to be so infuriating. He forced his composure before he returned to her, setting the cup beside her and re-taking his seat, not missing the amused tilt of her lips.

The logs he’d put in the hearth caught, and the room lit up with the new flames that curled and leapt around them. He narrowed his eyes at the sudden brightness, averting his gaze. He instead studied the shadows cast along the ceiling by the various bundled herbs hung from the rafters, listening to the sounds from the hearth.

“You aren’t going to tell me anymore, are you.” he said after the silence continued for several minutes.

“I’m not withholding information, if that is what you are implying,” Hana answered him. “I don’t see any point reiterating what you already know.”

“What did Trevor and Sypha find?” he tried instead.

“Why don’t you ask them?”

Adrian ground his teeth together. Hana glanced at him with a surreptitious smile behind the rim of her cup.

“What do you want from us, Hana?”

“Ideally? For you to take care of the offensive dark spot that is looming on the horizon. It’s spoiling my view.”

He stared at her. He’d had enough of her particular brand of ‘advice’ for one evening, and decided he’d warmed up sufficiently that Trevor and Sypha would let him get under the covers with them. He rose, making for the door.

“Alucard,” Hana called, just as his fingers touched the latch.

He stilled, bowing his head to gather himself before he turned and went back into the main room.

“Yes?” he asked, showing his fangs.

She took a drink from her ale cup, ignoring him. When she was finished she looked at him, her black eyes seeming to swallow up the light from the fire. “If you manage not to fuck this up, you could all be very happy,” she said flippantly, before taking another drink from her cup.

He stared at her for a long moment, wondering it all of this was a joke to her. Maybe she was drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t wait around for more vague and condescending advice. He left the house, closing the door behind him and retreating to the reassuring company of Trevor and Sypha.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian had been welcomed into the warm nest of blankets in the straw, and he had gratefully taken his place beside his lovers, nuzzling into Sypha and pulling blankets over himself. They’d roused enough to ask him if things had gone alright, and at his affirmation both of them and quickly fallen back to sleep, leaving him to lay awake beside them for the remainder of the night.

He watched a lone barn owl hop from one perch to another, and once it swooped down to snatch up a rodent from somewhere below them, but aside from that, nothing stirred, and Adrian was alone with his thoughts.

It was already late when he’d gone to rest, and in only a couple of hours he saw light bleeding through the cracks between the boards, and he rose, recognizing the futility of remaining as he was any longer.

“Where’re you goin’?” Trevor asked him when he extricated himself from his place beneath the covers.

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted in a whisper, hoping not to wake Sypha, who was curled up with her knees bent.

Trevor yawned, and he thought he was going to go roll back over, but he sat up, raking his hand through his hair. “Gimme a sec,” he said, already sounding more awake.

He got up and grabbed a few things from his belongings, equipping himself with his weapons and boots. He turned on his heel as he was about to go down the ladder and went back to Sypha, pulling the blankets more tightly around her and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. He passed his hand fondly over the swell of her hip, then left her, and descended.

Outside, it was still quiet, and it was shaping up to be a very dull day. The sky was a pale grey. It wasn’t snowing, but it seemed like it might before long.

Trevor slipped his arm around Adrian and kissed him as their boots sank several inches into the snow. Adrian intended to make for the house, but the other man guided him in a different direction, leading him to an open area behind the barn.

Trevor released his hold on Adrian’s waist and turned to face him. “Wanna fight?”

Adrian had left his sword in the barn, but he reached for it now, calling it to him. It flew to his hand with a satisfying smack of the cold metal against his glove, and immediately Trevor was sinking to a defensive posture, his leather whip flying around him, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching and flexing as he wielded it.

“Best of three?” Adrian asked, disappearing in a flash of red before Trevor could land a blow.

“Depends how many times you want your ass handed to you,” Trevor countered, sidestepping Adrian’s sword as it flew towards him and striking back with an attack of his own.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, Belmont,” Adrian retorted, enjoying the banter, and the way Trevor flushed as his blood got pumping harder.

They danced around one another in the snow, keeping the back and forth going for awhile, until Trevor was panting with exertion and Adrian’s hair was tangled from whirling around at speed. He flashed Trevor his teeth and went in for a killing blow with his sword, seeing that his opponent was tiring. Trevor evaded – barely – and when Adrian turned to meet him again he was caught in the face with a fistful of snow.

Trevor scooped up another one, throwing his whip to the side and forming the snow into a ball before he hurled it. Adrian let it strike his chest and he raised a brow. “You intend to defeat me with snow?” he asked, incredulous. Trevor lobbed another one at him and he ducked.

“You’re damn right!”

“I think that head injury is still affecting your critical thinking,” he said, but sheathed his weapon, gathering some snow and returning fire. His snowball broke apart before it landed its target and Adrian balked, giving Trevor an opening to pin him on the side of the head.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” the hunter taunted, making another ball and forming it carefully, biding his time. He dodged Adrian’s next assault and waited until he bent to gather up more snow before closing in and launching it at his face. Adrian caught it out of the air and sent it hurling back at Trevor. Hard. It took him in the gut and he was knocked backwards, the air forced from his lungs.

Sputtering on his back and attempting to catch his breath, Trevor wheezed. “That was dirty,” he complained, rolling sideways before Adrian could get him again. He made it back to his feet and tackled Adrian in the middle, sweeping his legs out from under him, sending both of them rolling to the ground. He stuffed a fistful of snow down the front of Adrian’s shirt and in turn the dhampir mashed a handful of it into Trevor’s face.

They laughed and sat up, and Adrian took pity on Trevor and gave him a chance to catch his breath while he tried to fish snow out of his shirt before it melted.

Without warning, both of them were suddenly struck in the back of their heads with snowballs. They turned, and Adrian was hit in the face with another one. When he cleared his eyes he saw Sypha leaning against the back of the barn, tossing a snowball in her hand.

“I can’t believe you tried to leave me out,” she said, and there was as dangerous look in her eyes.

Trevor glanced at Adrian. “She is not going to play fair,” he said under his breath, and before Adrian could answer both of them were pelted with a volley of snowballs, Sypha’s magic flashing as she conjured them faster and faster.

They teamed up and began to fire them back, Adrian snatching them from the air and returning them to Sypha, and Trevor ducking out of the way and making new ones to launch at her. She defended herself with ice shields and dropped them in time to return fire.

The three chased each other around the clearing for another twenty minutes, and before long Trevor and Adrian were well and truly beat, sopping wet, their hair caked with snow, and Adrian held up his hands in surrender. Sypha pinned him with another snowball before she laughed and relented, offering him her hand. He accepted it and she hauled him up. She hadn’t been hit once.

Adrian was a little flabbergasted that he’d been beaten. He was not used to losing, and he couldn't resist stuffing a handful of snow down the back of her robe before she could twist away.

“You _cheater_!” she accused, squirming and trying to shake it free before it melted.

“Oh I think you deserved that,” Trevor drawled, giving Adrian thumbs up as he dug around in the snow for his whip.

Adrian found himself smiling foolishly as he picked snow from his person and they crossed the lawn towards the house. “I’ve never done that before,” he said partly to himself and partly to them, and his companions looked at him incredulously.

“Really?” Sypha asked. “You never had a snowball fight?”

He shook his head. “I have not,” he admitted, opening the door so Sypha and Trevor could enter before him.

“First time for everything,” Trevor said, slapping him on the back as he passed into the house.

He couldn’t wipe the silly grin from his face as he followed them in.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Hana had come up with a new and even more punishing list of chores she wanted completed by the time they finished their breakfast of porridge with dried currants and pumpkin seeds. It was obvious to all of them that she was reaching by this point, and a few hours in Trevor’s patience ran out. He dropped the box of old silver he’d been asked to polish and crossed his arms.

“Lady, this is bullshit. We have more important things to do than hang around here and organize your crap.”

Hana shifted in her seat in front of the fire, uncrossing her legs and re-crossing them in the other direction. “Do you now?” she said, looking at her short nails, which were stained from the beets she had been peeling earlier in the day.

“Yeah, we do,” Trevor answered.

Hana raised a brow, looking at the trio, all of whom were clearly sharing Trevor’s sentiments. Sypha seemed like she was about to speak but she closed her mouth.

“Then why don’t you go _do_ it?” Hana said, black eyes glittering. “I’m certainly not going to stop you. The sooner you finally take care of that awful castle, the sooner everyone’s lives will return to normal. I really don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

The three of them looked at one another, and Sypha frowned. “But we don’t have a plan,” she pointed out.

Hana barked a sharp laugh at that. “And you think I’m going to provide you with one? Not likely. But if you don’t have anything to do I could use a bit of help with my laundry, and Alucard, I’d like you to bring me some rabbit, just in case I can’t make it through on what you were able to hunt yesterday. And Trevor, that silver isn’t going to polish itself-

“We get it!” Trevor interrupted, kicking the box and tipping it on the floor. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning at first light.”

Sypha put a hand on his arm. “Trevor, we should decide that together. We still have to figure out the spell you uncovered yesterday, it’s unfamiliar to me.”

Trevor turned to her. “Sypha, we can work on that on the way there. You can see how far away the damned thing is, it’s going to take us awhile to get to it, especially with the snow, and the mountains, and the fucking night creatures. We’ll have to leave the wagon. It's going to be rough.”

Adrian had been thinking about that too, and he touched Trevor’s shoulder, turning his back to Hana, who was watching them discuss matters with a self-satisfied expression on her face. “Perhaps we should talk privately,” he suggested, looking between them.

“There’s really no need,” Hana cut in. “I don’t care what your plans are. But there are a few things I might be able to offer you before you go.”

“And you’re just getting around to telling us now?” Trevor asked, his voice hiding none of his exasperation.

Hana shrugged her small shoulders. “If I’d told you before then I would still have a hole in my barn roof, and nothing to eat.”

Adrian thought it best to guide the conversation back to the relevant matters, and keep Trevor from becoming anymore agitated than he already was. The hunter bristled, but allowed himself to be guided to the table and into a chair, muttering under his breath about ‘conniving old hags’ as he went. Hana joined them, moving stiffly when she rose, and bringing salt and some herbs and stones with her from the kitchen. She selected a book from one of the overstuffed shelves and laid it on the table as well.

“I don’t have anymore predictions for you, but I can teach you some useful spells to protect yourselves on your way to the castle,” Hana said as she thumbed deliberately through the book, which was a nondescript volume maybe an inch thick, written in a sepia toned ink that had faded to nearly nothing in some places.

Sypha leaned in, her fingers twitching with an obvious desire to snatch the book into her hands. “Protective magic?” she asked, touching the different stones Hana had selected as though she was assessing them for magical energy. Adrian watched carefully, his interest piqued. He wondered if he would be able to perform any of this magic – it was obvious that Hana’s aptitudes were opposite to his own.

“Yes, that is my strength,” Hana answered, stroking her amulet absently.

“I know some wards, but I’m better at offensive, elemental stuff,” Sypha volunteered, producing a small ball of flame between her hands and playing with it, expanding and shrinking it before she let it wink out with not so much as a puff of smoke. Next, she made an intricate spire of ice. It was narrow and delicate, twisted in a design that reminded Adrian of fine metalwork. It hovered between her hands until she dismissed it in a simple motion, turning it to snow that fell to the table and melted. “I’m getting better with wind as well,” she said, summoning a small whirlwind between her hands, holding it for a few moments before it disappeared.

Trevor rocked on the back of his chair, evidently not very taken with the subject matter. He fidgeted and the chair creaked, groaning beneath his mass.

Hana turned to Adrian. “You tested my barrier when you first arrived, and it held. If Sypha is able to create one like it, you can test that one as well.”

“Certainly,” he said, contemplating the book spread on the table.

“Then we will begin,” Hana said brusquely, before she took one the of the stones she’d brought. “Protective magic generally uses either a barrier or perimeter, or an object of focus, such as a talisman, in order to hold a spell…”

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Sypha practicing magic she’d never tried before, and Adrian using his own to test it. She wasn’t accustomed to struggling with spells, but the protective magic did not come easily to her, and more than once Adrian broke through her barriers with marked ease, disintegrating them with blasts of his own magic, and once, he teleported through and appeared beside her. She’d been absolutely certain of the efficacy of the spell that time, and was completely caught by surprise when he materialized in a column of fire and triumphantly touched down a few feet away. She wilted, stomping her foot in exasperation.

“I’m awful at these. I think it’s hopeless,” she sighed, clearing the magic away and preparing to try again. She was weary, and Adrian put an arm around her.

“What about taking a break for awhile?” he suggested.

She shoved him off of her. “No! I can do this!” she insisted, her blue eyes flashing with weary determination.

“Syph,” Trevor said, coming to stand at her other side and trying again to put an arm around her. “You can’t be good at everything. It takes practice. You think I picked up a whip and immediately knew what to do with it? Of course not. That’s how I got this,” he said, gesturing to the scar over his left brow and cheek.

Adrian blinked in surprise. He’d always wondered about the mark, but had assumed it was from a fight. “You did it to yourself?”

Trevor nodded. He pulled his leather whip from his belt. It was consecrated, but Adrian was not affected by the spell the way he would be by something like the Morning Star. Trevor handed it to him. “Try it. It’s harder than it looks. But go stand away from anything and anyone.”

Sypha was effectively distracted from her frustration by the sight of Adrian holding the whip in his hand, staring at it with poorly concealed offense, like it was a dead snake he’d accidentally happened upon. He held the handle and the length of braided leather uncoiled and fell limply to the ground. He could feel the consecration spell protesting his hold, but it was only slight, especially through his glove.

Trevor had a strange expression on his face, and Adrian wondered what he was thinking about. “Move it around a little, get a feel for the weight of it. Try snapping it,” he instructed.

Adrian followed the direction, attempting to get the whole length to obey him and strike at the ground several feet away. “You usually use both hands,” he pointed out, glancing sort of helplessly at the hunter when the whip tangled with itself in midair and hit nothing. He started to coil it up in his opposite hand the way he’d seen Trevor do, then attempted again. The length of whip flew better this time, but the end still didn’t hit with any force.

“Trevor you always make it look so easy,” Sypha said to him, but Adrian heard, and redoubled his efforts.

He rose into the air to make it easier to wield the long whip, swishing it in continuous arcs until he felt like he had some momentum going through the whole thing. He then moved to attack a random point ahead of him. His hair was flying in his face and the whip did not move how he’d expected. It tangled in the long edge of his coat.

Adrian curled his lip, coiling the whip up and handing it back to Trevor. “I will admit, that is not as easy as it looks,” he said, already deciding that he would learn to use the weapon properly at a later juncture, if only to keep from being shown up by the hunter.

Trevor grinned. “Nope. I started with a shorter one, but I was a kid. A short kid with no patience and no idea what I was doing. All my brothers were older than me, and I was determined to figure it out so I could start learning to hunt monsters too. And I almost put my eye out.”

“Aw, Trev, you were the youngest?” Sypha said, picking up on the rare detail about his family – something he nearly never mentioned.

Trevor shrugged stiffly, as if only just realizing what he’d said. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Anyway, Syph, I was just trying to get you to see that not everything is going to come easily the first time. I’m a Belmont, I’m supposed to be great with weapons, and now I am, but the first time with a new weapon is always a learning experience. I doubt I could pick up Adrian’s super long sword very easily, and I can use almost any kind of sword. So don’t freak out that you aren’t getting this magic right away.”

“It’s a shame you don’t apply this point of view to other aspects of life, Belmont,” Adrian teased, poking Trevor in the ribs. “You almost sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

Trevor punched him in the arm. Adrian showed his teeth.

Sypha glanced between them with a hint of a smile. “Idiots.”

Adrian drew the sword, directing it to exit the sheath and hover before him. He wrapped his hand around the grip and pointed the blade to the ground, gesturing towards Sypha with the pommel end. “Do you want to try?” he asked her. The sword was so long it came nearly to her chest. She raised a brow at him.

“I don’t know how to use blades. I am not sure I could even lift it.”

“It’s way too long for her,” Trevor added, as though that were obvious. “It’s even too long for me,” he admitted. “The only reason you can fight with that thing is because you can fly, and use magic.”

Adrian shook his head. “I wasn’t allowed to do either of those things when I learned with this blade. Father insisted I master the traditional methods first. He is very mistrustful of magical weapons.”

“It’s still not very practical,” Trevor said. “If you want her to learn to fight with a blade, a dagger would be more appropriate. Lighter, too.”

Sypha gingerly put her small hand around the grip, and Adrian relinquished control of the weapon to her, watching her arm tremble to support the weight. “It’s really heavy,” she said, glancing at him, the tip swaying as she tried to hold it up.

Adrian moved to stand behind her and folded his body against hers, closing his hand over hers as he adjusted her grip. “I know it’s too heavy for you, but I was curious about whether you can hear it?” he asked, referring to the weapon’s magical resonance, which he was so accustomed to now that he hardly noticed it unless he thought about it.

“Oh,” Sypha said as understanding finally dawned on her. “Yes, of course I can hear it. It has a lovely voice, actually,” she said, closing her eyes like she was listening. “Sort of a humming sound.”

“It might listen to you,” Adrian said, speaking close to Sypha’s ear. “This weapon was a gift from my mother, and it had been in her family for many generations. I’m not the only one who has been able to wield it as I do. It’s possible that both of you could speak to it. It’s a human weapon, not a vampire one. I don’t expect you to fight anything with this Sypha, I was only curious about whether or not it would respond to you.”

Sypha’s hand tightened on the grip, the muscles in her arm flexing as she tried to support the weight. Adrian helped her, taking the brunt of it himself. “What am I suppose to say to it?” she asked.

“For now, see if you can lift it.” he suggested, slowly releasing his hold on the sword and letting Sypha take full control of it.

It almost immediately dropped, the tip digging into the snow. Sypha’s brows lowered and drew together as she focused. Nothing happened.

“Try closing your eyes,” Adrian suggested, once more speaking close to her ear.

She obeyed, letting her eyes fall shut. Adrian and Trevor watched her expression relax, her lips moving slightly as if she were whispering. The sword slowly lifted into the air, her fingers still wrapped around the grip. “Oh!” Sypha exclaimed, and her eyes popped open in surprise. The blade was sticking straight out in front of her, held up by magic. When she opened her eyes it quickly fell back to the snow, her arm flexing under the weight. She grinned and adjusted her fingers, closing her eyes again and raising the sword carefully, slowly.

“Now let go,” Adrian said.

She unwound her fingers, and the blade remained hovering in front of her in the air for several seconds. She opened her eyes, but was able to maintain her concentration long enough to hold it up for a bit longer before it wavered and clattered to the snow. Adrian caught it easily before it touched the ground.

“Excellent,” he said to her. “I’ve always wondered about that.”

Trevor squirmed, and Adrian knew he wanted to try as well. But the intention of the exercise had been to give Sypha a break, and restore her confidence, and he was hoping that she would now return to making protective barriers.

“Would you like to try, Trevor?” Adrian asked him, seeing the look on his face. They both knew it frustrated Trevor that he couldn’t perform magic and they could, although he was usually fairly good about keeping it to himself.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, waving the idea away. “I’m more interested in seeing if Sypha can get a hang of that barrier spell. It would be nice to avoid the night creatures while we sleep.”

Sypha nodded. “I can do it guys. Let me try again.”

It took another two hours, but eventually, Sypha did learn to create a barrier that Adrian was unable to break or easily detect. By the time she’d finally perfected the spell and learned to make the ‘key’ that would permit Adrian to enter and exit the area of the spell’s effect, it was already getting dark. Sypha was exhausted, but she had a smile on her face that would put the sun to same, and it was clear that she was proud of herself.

Trevor pulled her against his body and told her she’d done a great job, then he hoisted her into his arms and carried her towards the bathing tub to clean up. They all took their turn washing in the tiny tub, then went inside the house for dinner, which Hana had been working on for most of the afternoon, much to their delight.

It was a venison roast with root vegetables, seasoned with flavourful herbs and served with copious quantities of Hana’s ale. The small witch seemed in good spirits, and Adrian suspected that she was already a little drunk when they came in, as he could smell the ale on her breath and see the flush on her chest and face. It served to smooth out her rough edges, and she was almost nice, which was proof to him that her blunt manner was very much a defense mechanism.

They all sat at the table with cups of ale and tucked in to the generous meal.

“Thank you very much for this,” Adrian said politely, as he took the liberty of carving the roast and serving everyone, beginning with their hostess. It looked delicious – every bit as good as the meals he had enjoyed most of his life – and he was eager to partake. “It smells wonderful,” he added, and Hana raised her glass.

“I’ll drink to that,” she said, and each of them mirrored her, and they all drank deeply. Adrian swallowed a few mouthfuls from his cup, cringing a little helplessly at the taste of the alcohol on his palette.

Trevor eyed him, setting his empty cup on the table. “Oh come on, this is some of the best ale around, don’t make that face,” he said, burping under his breath.

Sypha shoveled a large bite of venison into her mouth and chewed. She’d worked up quite an appetite in the afternoon, and she was the first to finish her plate. She patted her stomach appreciatively. “You’re a great cook, Hana.”

“I know I am,” Hana agreed, popping a forkful of venison into her mouth.

When they had all eaten their fill, they sat around the table and drank and talked for awhile, and Adrian managed to get over the taste of the alcohol, eventually finding himself leaning heavily on the table, his hand loosely holding his cup. He listened to everyone telling stories, occasionally offering one of his own, although many of his tales served to bring up painful memories, and he did not want to spoil the mood. Sypha had plenty of stories about the Speakers and what life was like with them, and Hana told a few about her own life, although she kept them light. Trevor talked about different monster hunts and the many towns and villages he’d encountered in the last twelve years of living rough, admitting at times to sleeping in some fairly horrible places, and doing some desperate things to survive.

“Trevor, that isn’t all that different from how you live now,” Sypha pointed out, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink to match her lips, and her eyes a little watery.

Trevor laughed and got up to get himself another drink. Hana was falling asleep in her chair by this time, leaning her chin on one hand, and Trevor considerately brought her a glass of water when he returned. “Hey, I think it’s bedtime for you,” Trevor said to her, and she squinted, glaring at him through one eye.

“I’m perfectly capable of deciding when I’m done,” she said, to him, but accepted the water and drank it down. “God, you Belmonts are all the same. Your mother was like that too – she could drink all night and still stand up straight. Oh, we had some good times,” Hana said, smiling crookedly to herself.

Trevor sobered, and he sat back in his chair, the humour gone from his face. “You knew my mother?” he said to Hana. Adrian had thought he’d known, but he realized that the conversation between he and Hana had been in her kitchen, away from Trevor and Sypha’s audience.

“Of course I did,” Hana said, summoning lucidity. “She was a close friend of mine. I was crushed when I heard what the church had done to your family. They didn’t deserve that. But she would never have wanted you to mourn for too long. Lucia was a strong woman, and she was never one to complain.”

Adrian watched the way Trevor’s jaw and neck worked, and the way his hands curled into fists. Not from anger, but from the strength it was taking to withhold his emotions. His heart beat quickly. Sypha noticed too, the silly expression on her face shifting. He seemed like he was about to rise again, but Hana’s small, twisted hand moved to cover one of his big fists, and the tiny woman stopped him. He looked at her, his face drawn.

“Your mother would be incredibly proud of you, Trevor Belmont,” she said seriously. “You are the most skilled warrior of your entire generation, and several before it.”

“I’m just a lucky drunk,” Trevor said quietly, looking down at the table.

“Maybe,” Hana said to him, “But you are a Belmont. The last Belmont left. You are fearless and you are strong, and you are so much like both of your parents that having you here these past few days has warmed my old heart. It was like having a piece of Lucia here again. So don’t insult me by brushing off my words. I’m not the sentimental sort, and I won’t repeat them. You shouldn’t mourn your family any longer, because they are alive in you, and you’d do well to remember it.”

Trevor’s eyes slowly rose to meet Hana’s. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Adrian was sure his own eyes were a little glassy, but it might have just been the ale, or the smoke from the candles around the house. Trevor stared at Hana, his large frame taut. After nearly a minute he nodded once. “Thank you,” he said to her, and Adrian saw her squeeze his hand lightly with her small fingers.

“You’re welcome. Now, help an old woman to bed, or I am going to end up with my face on this table. This has been a lovely evening. I’m grateful to have so much life in my home after all of the death and misery in recent months. Make as much noise as you like. Eat what you want. Drink all you please, and put some wood on the fire before you go to sleep. Goodnight.”

Trevor rose and assisted Hana to her feet. She was unsteady, but she held his offered arm and made it to the couch under her own power. She directed Trevor to fluff her pillows and fetch her the chamber pot for later, and a glass of water, and then she made him remove the leather tie from her braid and unravel the long rope of plait, spreading her hair loosely around her.

He did everything she asked without complaint, and suddenly the animosity between them had shifted to something entirely different, and Adrian felt his heart melting at the sight of Trevor carefully and attentively fulfilling the simple requests. The man he knew to be rough and vulgar and harsh looked on Hana with soft, concerned blue eyes, and Adrian realized for the first time how badly Trevor had needed to hear her words, and how much pain he still carried for being the only one of his family to survive.

He felt a warm hand touch his own and he looked at Sypha. “You’re such a softie,” she said, and reached for his face. He realized he had tears on his cheeks and he quickly wiped them away before she could. He took another gulp of ale, hiding behind his cup.

“That was good for him,” she said, watching Trevor as he finished with Hana. “He never talks about them. Everyone who knew them is dead. Maybe he can come back here in the future and reminisce with her about them.”

Trevor returned to the table and sat down, taking a pull from his mug. He seemed… lighter. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He eyed Adrian, taking in his glassy eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, arching a brow.

Adrian straightened. “I’m fine,” he said automatically without really thinking about it. Then he considered his ale cup, and the loose feeling in his whole body. “Perhaps I am a little inebriated,” he admitted, flushing. “This ale seems to have lost the unpleasant taste somewhere after the first cup.”

Trevor gestured with his cup before taking a swallow. “Told you it was good.”

“So. Our last night in the safety bubble. No monsters, and unlimited food and drink. Not half bad. I won’t go as far as to pretend I’m an optimist, but it does kind of make what’s coming easier to swallow.”

Sypha gave a sharp laugh. “Ha! You won’t be saying that tomorrow morning!”

He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. It’s the two of you who will suffer.”

Adrian shook his head. “I don’t get hangovers,” he said smugly.

Trevor made a face. “I don’t get hangovers,” he mocked in a surprisingly convincing version of Adrian’s voice. The blonde stared at him, feigning insult, though he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

“Trev that was perfect,” Sypha cackled, finishing her cup.

Trevor finished his own cup, tipping it back and drinking down the entire contents at once. Adrian watched his throat work, warming at the sight of his bite mark so blatantly revealed. He stared, then leaned closer and trailed a finger over the damaged flesh, a little thrill of excitement and desire rolling through him.

When Trevor was finished with his cup he touched the same spot, meeting Adrian’s eyes. “You really like seeing it, eh?”

Adrian nodded, too drunk to deny it, not that he would have in present company.

Sypha rose and came to stand behind Trevor, brushing her fingers over the mark. “I can’t believe I didn’t get to be there for this,” she pouted. “What else did I miss?” she asked, looking between them.

Trevor fixed Adrian with a licentious expression, which made the dhampir turn a remarkable shade of crimson.

Sypha glanced from one man to the other.

“Really? That too?”

She moved to Adrian, sliding herself easily into his lap, straddling him. His arms came automatically around her and she leaned up and kissed his scarlet cheek.

“Did you have fun?” she asked him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Was Trev gentle with you?”

Adrian was having some trouble thinking straight with all the ale he’d had and the sensation of her in his lap. He shifted himself against her body and nodded, unable to put what he was thinking into words. He had wanted it to be private at the time, but now part of him felt bad for doing it without Sypha present. It was a confusing mix and he did not fully know what to do with his own feelings. He glanced at her apologetically, though it was made less effective by the red tinging his eyes and the way he was growing hard against her.

Sypha gave him a positively carnivorous look, pressing herself against his body. “Adrian,” she whispered to him, dipping and licking the bit of his chest exposed through his shirt. His breath staggered. She twisted and met Trevor’s eyes, which were already trained on them with interest. “Trev?”

“Yeah Syph?”

“Let’s go back to the barn.”

Neither of the men argued.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I have officially reached the 300 000 word mark with this fic. Ho-LEE smokes! I certainly never thought I'd get this far with it! I am deeply grateful to all those who have followed this story, left me comments, kudos, and subscribed. I am truly touched by the support.
> 
> A little angst and a little fluff in this chapter, as we draw closer to the major climactic action! I know I made Adrian kinda sad in some parts of this - I feel like every hero experiences self-doubt and fear sometimes, and for Adrian, seeing the castle was a massive trigger for those feelings.
> 
> It would mean the world to me to hear what you think! Taking the time to leave me some feedback really makes it all worth it for me, so pretty please, COMMENT!


	34. Part Thirty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to everyone!
> 
> This chapter is steamy. Very steamy. You can skip it if you aren't into that.
> 
> There is now beautiful cover art for Deliverance, which can be viewed at the beginning of Chapter 1. Also, you may have noticed the change in title. I hope that didn't confuse anyone! I felt that the new title was far more fitting.
> 
> I would like to dedicate this chapter to MidMorningSong, who has been simply AWESOME through this whole thing. You're amazing! 
> 
> Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the chapter.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-Four**

When he stood up Adrian discovered that he was quite gloriously drunk, nearly overturning the table when he bumped it with his hip. He caught the edge of it before it could go flying, and his chair promptly fell over backwards, striking the floor sharply.

His limbs seemed clumsy and faraway, like they would not obey his instructions. He was vaguely dizzy and everything appeared sweetly fuzzy, like the world was wrapped in soft candlelight. He was very content, all of his worries miles away and replaced with the heat of the ale in his belly.

Adrian stared at the edge of the table, which he held in hand, the whole of it several inches off the floor still. He lowered it, completely missing how Sypha had scrambled to catch the cups before they could topple down. It was good that they were all empty. The table settled back into place with a _thud_ and an alarming creaking of the wooden floorboards, and Trevor snickered, snaking an arm around him.

“Bit of a disaster, aren’t you,” he teased. “I think we should get you out of here before you break something. Eh- something else,” he corrected, noting that Hana’s vase of flowers had fallen, and was lying in pieces on the floor.

“Her vase,” Adrian said sadly, bending to collect the broken bits and set them back on the table, which was about as much cleaning up as he could manage at present.

“I wonder where she got fresh flowers?” Sypha asked aloud. “Its too cold for them now.”

“Fuck if I know. Maybe it’s a witch thing,” Trevor shrugged, ducking into the kitchen to take another drink before they all moved into the entrance to get their coats and boots.

Adrian was first out of the house, but he nearly yanked Hana’s front door clean off its hinges when he pulled it open. It lodged itself firmly in the wall beside the doorway and Trevor elbowed him conspiratorially and snickered under his breath.

“Are you looking for the old lady to give us even more shit to fix?”

Adrian gulped, blinking at the door. “It was an accident.”

Trevor shrugged, stepping past him onto the porch. “Just put it back like it was, I’m sure it’s fine.”

He leaned against one of the porch posts with his arms crossed over his chest and an amused tilt to his lips as Adrian groped for the edge of the door and pulled it out of the wall, gingerly closing it and sighing in relief when it didn’t fall apart under his hands. There was a lovely impression in the wall from the doorknob, but hopefully Hana would never notice.

His senses were muddled – certain things seemed much stronger than they normally did, where others were barely registering. He was distinctly aware of Trevor and Sypha close to him, but he hardly noticed the sensation of snow crunching under his boots. He trailed unsteadily after Sypha, letting Trevor catch his elbow when he stumbled.

“Easy there,” the hunter said, falling into step beside him. “You’re pretty drunk,” he laughed, looping his arm around Adrian’s back. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m not going to _fall_ ,” Adrian snapped snobbishly, sticking his nose in the air. He couldn’t imagine being so uncoordinated as to be unable to maintain his own footing. He was already embarrassed enough about failing to moderate his strength. He didn’t want to give Trevor more to tease him over.

“I know. I just like holding you,” Trevor answered him with a sidelong smile, halting any further reluctance and instead leaving him pliant and obliging. He liked being held.

He reached for Sypha’s hand before she could get too far ahead, bringing her against his body and pulling Trevor to him as well. He hugged them both, overcome by the desire to feel them close. It was natural to begin to kiss them, taking Sypha’s lips with his own, then Trevor’s, finding he had to work to mind his fangs in his inebriated state.

When he broke away from Trevor’s mouth Sypha stood on her toes so she could pull her fingers through his hair. “It’s cold out here,” she pointed out, and he withdrew so they could cover the rest of the distance through the snow to the darkened shape of Hana’s old barn.

When they got to it Adrian backed Sypha against the outer wall and laid himself heavily against her, trying to gain more contact as he sniffed her neck and that spot behind her ear where the hairs were fine and soft. She smelled divine, and he wanted to taste her. He luxuriated in the way she felt against his body – small and hot and soft. He ran his lips along her throat, sucking at it to create a small hickey.

“Hey! Not so hard,” she protested mildly as she put a hand on his chest and pushed against him, trying to weasel free with little success. He pulled her hand down against her side and held it there easily, barely feeling her struggles. He inspected her throat, satisfied that there would be a mark where he’d sucked and bent to make another, enamoured by the idea of her skin decorated in small, harmless love bites. There was a little flare of instinct, a possessive, almost selfish urge to claim her, and in his present state he didn’t give much thought to denying himself.

He bent again and sucked, leaving a larger hickey. Her neck was so long and smooth and beautiful, it was wonderful to play his mouth along it. He could lose himself in this too easily. He grazed the inviting column with his teeth, considering whether he’d like to bite her now or once they were inside and she was naked.

“Adrian you’re crushing me,” Sypha said a little more urgently, pushing again against him, a small frown knitting her brows.

Trevor drew close, his body suddenly pressed to Adrian’s back, his arms coming around him, covering his hand. “Hey, let up,” he said authoritatively, and Adrian blinked, quickly letting go of Sypha’s wrist. He licked his lips and leaned into Trevor more heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he said in apology, although the mage appeared unruffled. She slanted her eyes at him and grabbed his hand, her fingers curling over the leather of his glove. Behind him, Trevor was nearly holding him up.

“Come on, lets go inside,” Sypha said after a moment, tugging him behind her and opening the door.

The barn was dark and smelled of hay. Adrian quickly jumped into the loft but reeled when the world tilted as he landed, forcing him to reach for a stack of bales to lean against and find his balance. He was not used to this feeling of poor coordination and vague spinning when he moved, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. His stomach flopped in warning and he wondered for the first time if he may have had too much ale.

Fortunately the disorientation eased by the time his companions had entered the hay mow, and his attention was effectively drawn to them. Trevor – no stranger to the realities of intoxication – raised a brow at his position. “You gonna be sick?” he asked.

Adrian straightened. “No,” he assured “I’m okay.”

Sypha came to stand beside Trevor and squinted the darkness. “We need a lantern in here, I can’t see.”

“There is one in the wagon, I’ll grab it” Trevor said, descending the ladder. Adrian could hear him rooting around in the cart. He came back up and found a safe place to hang the little metal contraption, away from the very flammable contents of the loft.

Once lit it cast a warm, if dim circle of light around the space. Even though it was slight, Adrian slit his eyes against the intrusion and took a moment to adjust to the brightness. It was hard to focus; the lines of things seeming to bleed into one another, like his eyes were lazy.

“Thanks Trev, that’s a lot better,” Sypha said, and Trevor nodded in agreement. As Adrian watched, they gravitated together, Trevor pulling Sypha into his arms and bending to kiss her.

“Your beard tickles,” she said when they pulled apart, touching the dark hairs that covered his chin and part of his neck. “You don’t usually wait this long to shave. It makes you look like a bear.”

Trevor stroked his chin thoughtfully, lips quirking. “I kind of forgot about it. I usually let it get shaggy in the winter months so my face doesn’t freeze.”

“Then you must _really_ look like a drifter,” she said and Trevor raised a brow.

“Should I look like something else? Wallachia is fucking freezing. I don’t care how I look, as long as they’ll serve me in taverns, and the bar isn’t very high. Most would sell ale to a horse as long as it could pay. Don’t Speaker men do the same thing in the cold months?”

She shook her head. “No, our people groom carefully, to be more approachable when we travel to new places. People are more accepting of visitors who look clean and tidy.”

Trevor grunted, mulling it over. “Yeah, I guess I never cared much for making a good impression.”

Adrian peeled off his gloves and coat as they were chatting, draping them over a nearby bale of hay. It was nice to simply listen to them, and know that they were there. He touched his own chin, finding it perfectly smooth. He’d never grow a beard, even though his father had one. He’d once been mortal, but Adrian had not.

He bent to remove his boots, teetering on one foot and finally collapsing on the bale to work them off of his feet more deliberately. He ran an embarrassed hand through his hair and glanced at Trevor and Sypha, who were watching him with open amusement. They drew closer, Trevor sinking to the bale beside him, and Sypha crawling into his lap like she had in the house, with her knees on either side of his thighs. Adrian’s hand came around her automatically, pulling her close to his body.

Trevor’s arm encircled his shoulders and he leaned against his side, breathing in the man’s ale-laced breath, his sweat, his skin. Sypha settled herself – a delightfully warm weight on his lap – and began to walk her fingers along his torso, touching him where his low collar left his chest exposed. He sighed in pleasure, that loose feeling overtaking him once more. This was great. He felt like he could melt between them. Everything was comfortable and familiar and there was no need to worry about maintaining composure when it was only the three of them here.

Trevor stroked the side of his face, his hand coarse on Adrian's skin. He leaned into the touch, his mouth wet. He had to lick his lips and swallow, struggling to think past the scents and the feeling of heat. Sypha started to brush her fingers over his nipples through his shirt and he jerked against her.

He purred, offering no resistance to the touches, his breath quickening when she pinched lightly. He grasped at her thigh just to have some part of her to touch, his eyes closing as he concentrated on the attention, and the feel of his shirt shifting over the sensitive skin of his chest beneath her hands. Trevor was still touching his face, his jaw, then his lips, ghosting over them with his fingers. Adrian opened his mouth, tongue exploring the texture of the calloused skin, the saltiness, and then he wrapped his mouth around them and sucked.

“You’re kind of a mess Adrian,” Trevor teased affectionately, his breath tickling the blonde’s ear. He shivered at the implication and nodded. He knew it was true, and he didn’t care.

“Aw Trev, be nice,” Sypha said, leaning closer and kissing his throat. She splayed her hands open over his pectorals and Adrian felt her lips on his neck, soft and perfect as she mouthed along the raised cords of each tendon. He searched for her hips with his hands, grasping them carefully over her dress. He wanted to touch her skin. He wanted to be inside her, but he wanted Trevor too.

He knew there were a lot of different ways that three people could fit together, and he was feeling decidedly adventurous at present. He released Trevor’s fingers, sitting a bit taller and holding Sypha so she didn’t fall off of his lap.

“I want both of you,” he said between them with the honesty of the very drunk, tilting his hips so Sypha could feel his growing excitement between her legs. Trevor’s hand caressed his thigh.

“How do you want us?” Trevor asked him, leaning close to his ear. The low, lusty tone went straight to his cock.

“Together. We’ve never done that- the three of us at once. I want to make both of you feel good,” he explained, and he saw the white of Sypha’s teeth in the low light.

“Adrian, are there things you imagine doing with us? Come to think of it, we haven’t talked about that much. What we all like, or want.”

Trevor laughed. “I just want to fuck you both until you forget your names,” he said lewdly, tracing the musculature of Adrian’s leg through his leather pants. “There hasn’t exactly been a lot of time for sex, between all the shit from the Hold, moving from place to place, and never knowing what’s going to happen next. And we’ve been adjusting to this- there being three of us, getting used to what we all want- and need,” he glanced at Adrian, who heard the unspoken portion of that statement clearly.

He turned to study Trevor’s face, although he couldn’t quite bring the man into focus. He frowned slightly. “I know I’ve asked both of you to accept a lot of… unorthodox things,” he said with poorly concealed guilt.

Trevor snorted. “We’re way past unorthodox. And it doesn’t matter. I stopped giving a shit about what was normal a long time ago. Even before you came along, Syph and I already experimented a lot and pushed things into weird territory. You’ve made that _much_ more interesting.”

Sypha tipped her head in agreement. “It’s true. That’s why I asked about what you might want to try. We know a lot of this is new to you. We want to know what excites you, or what you are curious about,” her mouth curled into a sensual smile as she slid her open palm along his body, down between them to rub the bulge pressing against the front of his pants, making Adrian’s hips twitch and his breath catch.

She pressed closer. “I really love to see you turned on, Adrian. You’re so beautiful, and very expressive. Your eyes are so pretty and bright, and I love that moment when they begin to go red, whether it’s because you’re going to bite me, or because you’re feeling pleasure. And,” Sypha continued, her eyes turning sultry as she leaned in and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth, leaving her taste there before she withdrew and finished her sentence. “I love when you blush. Sometimes Trev and I kind of… intentionally tease you, just so we can see you go pink.”

Adrian leaned closer to her, wanting to kiss her more, his fuzzed, intoxicated mind slow to process her words. Trevor touched his hair, fingers carding through it, relaxing him further.

“You tease me on purpose?” he echoed slowly when that finally sank in. He felt his cheeks growing hot, although they were already plenty flushed from the ale.

“‘Course we do,” Trevor answered him easily, giving one of those handsome, confident smiles that made Adrian’s insides turn to mush.

He should at least _pretend_ to be irked by that, but he couldn’t summon more than the desire to submit and find pleasure between them, cheeks blazing bright enough that he was sure it must be obvious to both of them even in the dim lighting.

Sypha’s smile broadened and she kissed his cheek. “Yes, just like that,” she said, running her fingertip over the apple of one scarlet cheek. “So, is there anything you had in mind?”

He had imagined many different things between them all, although he didn’t have any fully realized fantasies as such. Recently, a lot of what came to mind was twisted together with drinking blood and marking flesh, and even with their total acceptance it was embarrassing to confess that such things aroused him so thoroughly, although it was no longer any great secret. They weren’t blind. And… there were other things that interested him. He was entranced by them both, completely seduced by their bodies and their love. He felt so safe with them that he found himself eager to try things which he never would have entertained before. What he and Trevor had done – it left him so incredibly vulnerable, but it had also yielded a connection that ran deep into his soul. He had loved it.

Only for them could he ever be put into such compromising positions, but for them, he would do it with relish.

Maybe he _could_ warm up to the idea of asking for what he wanted, and of talking about sex more openly. He had never been very good at putting his private thought into words, but he felt brave now. The alcohol was certainly no hindrance.

“I want to be with you both at the same time,” he said, looking between them, then succumbing to his own shyness and looking bashfully to the side. “I love how you taste – not only your blood, any part of you. I’d like to- to be able to please you. I would enjoy that.”

It seemed awkward to voice this, even with liquid courage flowing through him. He had a funny, twisting sensation low in his gut when he spoke, a giddy sort of anxiety.

Sypha slipped her hands beneath his shirt and played over his abdominals. They bunched as his stomach tightened in response. “Please us how?” she asked seductively, leaning closer. Her eyes glittered, and her lips were shiny and full.

Adrian dragged in a breath, eyeing her mouth. “However you want me to. Like the morning after I bit you the first time.”

“You liked when I sat on your face,” she clarified, and he nodded quickly, the blood rushing to his erection, making him throb. Her hands moved higher, touching his chest, pinching his nipples again, rolling them between her fingers. They hardened and stood at attention, becoming sensitive, and she pinched again, enough for it to almost hurt. His let his head fall back against Trevor’s arm which still encircled him, and his mouth dropped open, the air making his fangs tingle. He groaned.

“What about when Trev was inside me first, and you tasted him too? Did you like that, sweetheart?” Sypha asked, slowly laying kisses to his exposed throat.

The blonde glanced to their other partner, who was clearly soaking up his abandon and arousal with thorough enjoyment. Trevor’s hand rubbed his thigh, moving with teasing lightness over the front of his pants, grazing his excitement. Adrian inhaled sharply and nodded. “Yes. Anything where I can use my mouth, smell you, taste you.”

Trevor grinned toothily and leaned closer, brushing his lips against Adrian’s, letting his beard scratch his chin a bit as his hand offered a little more friction between his legs, squeezing him through his clothes. “We can put your mouth to good use if that’s what you like, but I hope we can put the rest of you to good use too. I’ve never felt anything as tight as your ass wrapped around my cock, and Syph hasn’t had a chance to see what you look like stuffed full of me; she really missed out. Can we show her how fucking gorgeous you are like that?”

Adrian whined aloud at the lewd comments nodded again, trying to grind himself against Trevor’s hand. He moved to kiss Trevor sloppily, his lips too wet, and his tongue eager to find its way into the hunter’s mouth. It was hard to concentrate with Trevor rubbing him and Sypha making his nipples feel like two hypersensitive points of fire on his chest. But it was good because it was with them. It was exciting, and he loved to imagine them undoing him as they were, using pleasure and touch to transform him into a shivering, panting mess.

He mouthed Trevor clumsily, fangs nicking inside his lip and the taste of blood flooding their kiss, making Adrian lean hungrily into him, moaning into his mouth as he sucked eagerly at the tiny, unintentional cut.

He remembered himself and suddenly withdrew, frowning, trying to clear his mind through the haze of ale and desire. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said apologetically, replaying two nights ago: his too-tight grip on Trevor’s hands, the way he’d caught him on the chest with his claws without realizing it. “I have to be more careful.”

Sypha’s face fell a little, her brows knitting. She slipped her hands from his shirt and put them on his chest over the fabric, rubbing. “You’re not going to hurt us.”

“I hurt Trevor last time,” he said soberly, grasping one of her hands, curling his fingers around her smaller ones. He saw the tips of his claws – he hadn’t even realized he’d let them grow so long. He stared at his monstrous hand around Sypha’s delicate, fragile human one and felt suddenly ill. “I don’t want it to happen again.”

Sypha regarded him studiously, the lantern’s glow catching her hair from behind and haloing her head in copper. “If that’s a real concern, then we could always restrain you,” she said wickedly, working her hand free so she could touch the tips of his claws lightly. “Maybe it would be fun,” she added, not about to be discouraged.

Adrian blinked. “Restrain me? With what?”

Sypha pondered. “I’m sure I could find a spell,” she said to him. “Or maybe something silver?”

Trevor cut in, shaking his head firmly in refusal before Adrian could respond. “Sypha, no. Silver is toxic to vampires. It would burn, and scar.”

The mage looked to Adrian for confirmation.

“That would be torture,” he said, shuddering at the thought. The few times in his life he’d come in contact with silver it had made his flesh burn and smoke and it blistered in seconds. There was nothing fun or playful about that. In fact, he really did not like the idea of being restrained or tied down at all. It was dehumanizing. Some kinds of games that played with control or power or even humiliation were fun, but being tied up crossed a line that he couldn’t abide.

“I don’t think restraint is something I am comfortable with,” he admitted. “After the Hold- the cage- I can’t… I can’t be trapped anywhere,” he said softly, panic rising at the thought of it. The excitement from moments ago was fast dwindling. He closed his eyes and fought the awful anxiety, reminding himself that he was free and that it was only a memory. He was safe.

He felt Sypha’s arms encircling him.

“Okay. It’s alright, no restraints. No silver.”

“Thank you,” he said, hugging her close to himself as he buried his face against her and forced the vivid memories away.

Trevor stood up, interrupting the serious spell which had befallen them. He slowly pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop from his fingers. His breeches sat low on his hips, and the musculature of his torso was clearly visible, the layers of his pectorals, abdominals, and obliques standing out in the light from the lantern. He turned, glancing over his shoulder, blue eyes glinting brightly.

Adrian watched his back as he sauntered towards the blankets, obviously trying to draw attention with his slow, confident motions.

Wielding a whip and a sword for most of his life had left Trevor with highly developed arms and shoulders, and even the musculature of his neck and along the column of his spine stood out, defined and easily identifiable. Adrian felt like he was studying one of his mother’s books of anatomy, picking out each grouping of muscle and noting that it was in peak condition. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Trevor knew exactly what to do to distract him.

“Things are getting _far_ too serious,” he pointed out, turning slowly so he stood in profile. “Let’s get back to the fun stuff.”

He stretched languorously, fingers lacing together as he turned his palms outward, displaying his arms nicely. He relaxed, then hooked his thumbs in the tops of his breeches, catching Adrian’s eyes and smiling again as he pushed them down his hips, over his thighs, and off, stepping free.

Naked, his male organ hung partly engorged between his legs, a dark patch of curled hair at its base, his pale thighs standing out in the darkness, and Adrian and Sypha stared hungrily after him. The only thing he was wearing now were his holey wool socks and Adrian’s bite at his throat, and the dhampir was overcome by a wave of _want_ that rolled through him and pushed away his worries, leaving in their place a mounting desire for both of his partners. His arms tightened around Sypha in his lap, who was twisted so she could see Trevor’s little show.

The hunter relaxed down onto the blankets, leaning lazily back on his elbow as he made a noise of content, fixing them with a simmering blue gaze.

“Look. If it turns out you really can’t keep from shredding us when we fuck then we’ll talk, but I think it’ll be fine,” Trevor said nonchalantly, holding Adrian’s eyes. “You were just overwhelmed last time, and it will get easier. The last thing you should do is dwell on it. Just relax. Now both of you come here and show me some appreciation. I’ve got a good buzz on and I don’t want to waste it worrying. I’d much rather hear Adrian tell me how much he likes the taste of come.”

Sypha erupted into obnoxious laughter when Trevor said that, and Adrian pushed her unceremoniously from his lap with an indignant pout. She fell the short distance to the hay below with a surprised grunt, then sat up, snorting loudly, clearly unperturbed. Adrian did his best to appear miffed, standing pointedly, nose in the air, but he was still terribly drunk and he had to reach out and steady himself, which robbed the gesture of most of its efficacy.

Sypha got to her feet, smiling sweetly at him as she pulled him against her body with an arm around his back. “How many of those ales did you drink?” she asked, looking up to his face.

He tried remember. “Six? Uhm… Trevor kept refilling my cup. I’m not sure.”

“Oh it was more than six,” Trevor supplied helpfully from his place sprawled enticingly on the blankets. “Who cares? Let’s have fun. Take your clothes off.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?” Sypha remarked, but she was already releasing Adrian so she could unwrap the blue fabric of her robe, which she tossed down before she began on the black dress, slowly pulling it upwards to reveal her smooth white skin. Trevor’s eyes followed her closely, and Adrian was held captive by the image, his breeches tenting. It was as if the small interruption of a few minutes ago had never occurred.

Soon Sypha stood fully nude between them, her body wrapped in the light of the lantern and the deep shadows it cast. Adrian reached for her automatically but she went quickly down beside Trevor as a shiver rippled through her and her nipples hardened and stuck straight out. Adrian supposed it must be cold in the barn, but he honestly couldn’t tell. He started to pull off his own clothes, forgetting his worries in favour of thinking about how perfect it would be to touch them as he was now – aroused and more than willing to indulge them however they liked.

He shrugged his shirt off and fumbled with his pants, the tight garment a challenge to remove when his balance was so uncharacteristically precarious. Finally he managed and stood nude, looking down at Trevor and Sypha, who beckoned him to join them, patting the bedding where they lay. Trevor was on his side, and Sypha was on her back beside him, her head propped on the hunter’s arm.

“Mmm you have such a nice body Adrian,” Sypha said to him as he came down to her, her eyes crawling slowly over the expanse of his torso and legs with obvious enjoyment, and lingering on the blonde fan of his hair which was loose around his shoulders.

“So do you,” he answered, running his hand over her stomach, brushing boldly over her sex, cupping it. That loose, contented feeling was overtaking him again; he would happily melt against them both without a care in the world.

“Doesn’t she?” Trevor interjected, drawing Adrian’s eyes. He waggled his brows and grinned. “She’s going to look amazing stuffed full of our dicks,” he added, trailing his lips along her throat suggestively as he palmed one of her breasts, the nipple poking between his fingers.

He watched Trevor attend the place he would bite if he were going to feed, realizing that the hunter was doing it intentionally, trying to excite him by mimicking feeding behaviour – mouthing, sucking and nipping her neck where Adrian had bitten her before. A twinge of sensation reverberated through his teeth, his mouth watering reflexively. His eyes flashed, and he knew they were shifting to red.

“Mmm, both of you together sounds fun,” Sypha mused with a sultry smile, trailing her hand down the center of her own chest between her breasts, along her small belly. “We haven’t done that yet.”

She covered Adrian’s hand with hers, pressing it gently against her pubis. He curled his fingers so they dipped between her folds, finding her damp and ready. He had to be exceedingly careful that his claws didn’t so much as graze the delicate tissues, but she guided him to touch her externally, pressing against her more sensitive areas through her lips. He drew the sharp nails in anyhow, just in case they might injure her, but in his present state it was nearly impossible to retract them entirely.

“It feels nice like that,” she said huskily and let her legs spread slightly. “It’s good to be touched all around, not only in the middle,” she explained as she guided his hand to hold her whole sex, and to rub along her skin, her inner thighs, her outer lips. She even made his fingers graze the soft dark red hair between her legs, and he could tell she liked the light touches very much, and that they were making her even wetter; the insides of her thighs were now glistening and slick with her excitement, and it was on his fingers, making them slippery.

He breathed in the scent of her aroused body, pressing himself closer, wanting to simply roll atop her and bury himself inside. He was more than ready for her; he had been ready since he’d pressed her against the barn wall outside. He couldn’t keep himself from pressing his fingers carefully deeper into her heat, letting them be coated with her clear moisture until they were thoroughly slickened and he was sliding them ardently over her inner folds.

As he touched her sex, Trevor was still working her breast in his palm and had moved from her throat to kissing her mouth, giving Adrian a perfect view of their tongues sliding along one another and their lips becoming wet and shiny. He could hear her heart thundering behind her ribs. Her hand kept guiding him, showing him how she preferred him to use his fingers, where she liked him to touch. It was making her squirm and gasp into Trevor’s mouth. Then she tugged his hand to her face and broke from kissing Trevor to suck her own wetness eagerly from Adrian’s fingers.

Trevor and Adrian both watched this, and Adrian saw that Trevor was just as erect as he was, his thick organ sliding in its own moisture against Sypha’s other thigh, poking her just as Adrian was. The sight of their cocks both pressing against her from either side made his body tighten and he twitched, seeking friction against Sypha’s leg, reveling in the sensation of her hot mouth wrapped around his fingers as she cleaned them. He couldn’t decide where to look.

When Sypha was satisfied that his hand was clean she pushed herself to sitting between them, shifting and urging them both down onto their backs so they lay side by side. She knelt over both of them, one of her knees between each of their legs, giving them both a perfect view of her body. Adrian’s organ was hardened and arcing over his belly, the tip wet and leaking. Beside him Trevor was the same, his skin darker, his cock a little thicker and bobbing more heavily when his hips moved.

“I’ve actually never been with two men together, except the things we’ve already done,” Sypha told them. “We should fix that,” she purred, bending over Adrian to kiss him, her mouth wet and hot over his, her teeth closing on his lip and sucking suggestively. She teased his fangs and he nipped her reflexively in turn, leaving a tiny wound in her lip. He shivered at the sweet taste of her blood added to their kiss and brought an arm around her, pulling her down onto his body so he could kiss her more thoroughly. Her thigh was pressing over his excitement and he humped against it, thinking that if he could move her just a little he could slide right inside her tight heat.

Eventually she pulled free, then lowered herself over Trevor, kissing his lips just as she had done to Adrian. He loved to watch them kiss, especially so close to him, where he could hear the wet noises their mouths made and see the glistening beads of sweat on their skin, and of course everything was faintly perfumed with the hint of blood that lingered, which only served to further undo him.

Trevor’s hand grasped Sypha’s small breast roughly and Adrian saw the way her thighs clenched and she rubbed herself against him – he would have to remember how much she liked to be touched that way. Trevor was always grabbing her there and she never protested. All of them were breathing heavily when Trevor finally released her from the kiss, and her lips were wet.

She sat back and encircled each of their pricks – one in each hand – sliding her palms over them in unison.

It felt so good to be touched, and Adrian’s hips bucked as he was grasped and stroked. He was mesmerized by the picture of his cock and Trevor’s both being played simultaneously. He could see that his own was slightly longer, standing a little taller than the hunter’s, but Sypha’s hand was stretched wider around Trevor, to accommodate his additional girth. He was impatient, and horny, and his voice betrayed him. He moaned, tossing under her fingers, thrusting himself against her, wanton.

“Which one of you should I ride first?” she asked as she thumbed the heads of their cocks casually. “And which one of you wants my mouth?”

Adrian needed to let his his brain catch up with the rest of his body, and by the time he managed to formulate a response Trevor had already grabbed Sypha by the hips like she weighed nothing and pulled her onto his lap.

“You’re ridin’ me first,” he told her, sheathing himself in one smooth motion.

Sypha had apparently not been expecting this and her mouth contorted in an expression Adrian hadn’t seen her make before, a truly debauched and base scowl of enjoyment. She put her hands on Trevor’s chest to brace herself as she adjusted to suddenly being full of his formidable length.

Trevor lifted Sypha slowly, and Adrian sat up so he could see clearly how Trevor’s darkened, hardened erection slid out of her center, slicked in her wetness. He could _hear_ it, the sound of her moisture squelching when he moved. He studied the way her petite figure stretched to accommodate the girth, and a generous bead of precome leaked from his own organ in answer, making a thin clear trail as it dripped toward his abdomen.

His head was so fogged that he was left sitting there rather dumbly, just staring while his dick throbbed in the open air.

Trevor slid free of her and quickly they shuffled around, Sypha getting onto her hands and knees, and Trevor sitting back on his haunches, lining himself up behind her and yanking her back onto his cock once more with a grunt. Adrian was a little dazed, until Sypha’s hand on his arm pulled him back to himself.

“Sweetheart, come here, I’m going to blow you,” she said to him, and he quite suddenly realized that he hadn’t been left out and hurriedly moved onto his knees, sitting back, his cock springing eagerly before him. Trevor was still within her, but he allowed them a chance to arrange themselves.

Sypha grasped Adrian by his base and urged him closer. He did as he was bidden, moving until she could reach him with her mouth. Then she braced her hand on his thigh and licked the tip of his erection, making him jerk automatically in reaction. He saw Trevor watching them, a flush on his cheeks and chest. He had his hands on Sypha’s hips, and was gripping her tightly, keeping her in the position he wanted.

Adrian studied the expanse of Sypha’s back, the rounded rise of her rear, and the faint bumps and dips along her spine. He could see the ridges of a few of her ribs sticking out a little each time she inhaled. He touched her, appreciating her softness beneath his hand, then he forgot it as his cock was taken fully into her mouth, wrapped in wet heat with her tongue laving along the underside.

Trevor chose that moment to move, pulling Sypha more fully onto him. She hummed her pleasure, and took Adrian more deeply, going so far that he felt like he was touching her throat. Wouldn’t she choke? Didn’t she need to breathe? He knew he wasn’t exactly _small –_ his organ seemed obscene as he watched her lips stretch to accommodate it. She played him with her tongue whenever she withdrew, and soon he was slicked in her saliva and her face was wet with it. She nuzzled his cock, loving it, then swallowed him again.

Trevor moving inside her was making her oral efforts stilted and a little choppy, the force of him fucking into her making it hard for her to keep from choking on the length in her mouth. Adrian couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He studied her flushed face and her watering eyes and was nearly afraid to move in case he hurt her or made her gag, but in the same breath she was _fantastic_ at this is he wanted to grip her by the hair and push per perfect soft mouth more fully onto him. He felt her exhaling heavily through her nose when she could manage to breathe, the warmth of it tickling his skin.

Trevor began to snap his hips forward into her. Adrian could feel the movement through her body; her hand tightened on his leg and her fingertips dug into the skin of his thigh. He heard her making little noises every time he struck her deepest parts. Before long a sort of rhythm developed, and Adrian was paying far less attention to the little details, and was focused entirely on the sensation of having his dick completely surrounded by heat and wet.

Trevor’s hand found Adrian’s shoulder and dragged him closer, and then they were kissing with Sypha pinned between them, impaled twice over. It was a sloppy, drunken kiss, and both of them were thoroughly distracted by Sypha’s quivering and her pleasured moans. The vibrations left Adrian twitching helplessly, trying to restrain himself from thrusting too hard into her, lest her hurt her with his strength.

Trevor bit his lip sharply and Adrian growled into his mouth, excited by it, biting back until there was once again blood between them. He was getting used to this – to blood in their kiss, and he felt his orgasm building as Sypha began to falter, hardly able to maintain her ministrations when she was being fucked from both ends. Mostly now she was mewling in helpless ecstasy and she started begging Trevor to fuck her harder, her hand jerking Adrian’s cock whenever she couldn’t manage to get her mouth around him properly.

Adrian’s chest was slicked in sweat and he parted from Trevor’s mouth, eyes locking on the red that rimmed his lips and his brain fogged by the scent and taste of blood there. He looked down to see Sypha brace herself on the blankets with one hand and use her other to grasp him by the base, then she angled her head for better access, still letting out strangled mewls of enjoyment as Trevor continued to thrust into her. Sypha looked up at him, her huge blue eyes watery and hazed over, barely focused, tears streaming from them, and she took him completely into her mouth, watching him the whole time.

It was such a perfect vision that Adrian’s testicles tightened and then heat exploded through his body, his balls, his cock, and he was shooting ropes of white into Sypha’s throat as he tangled his hands in her hair. Not a drop was lost when he spilled into her, his eyes falling closed, hips jerking once and nearly causing her to choke. He wanted badly to sink his fangs into something as was natural to him in that moment, but he settled for gritting his teeth together.

Sypha panted her exertion when she finally released him, lovingly licking along his oversensitive cock and looking a dazed. Adrian was nearly dizzy, breathless. Trevor watched this entire process with evident enjoyment, and when Sypha slipped her mouth off of Adrian he leaned over her and pressed her chest and face against the blankets with one muscular arm, gripping her by the back of the neck as he angled her hips up to meet his quickening thrusts.

Adrian saw her face redden, heard her wheeze when Trevor pressed his weight onto her and started to hammer into her unforgivingly. Her expression twisted and he thought she was in pain, then he realized she loved it, and that her thighs were squeezing, she was reflexively trying to close her legs as Trevor fucked her faster.

“T-Trev- mmm- I’m close- unnhhhhmmmm…” she whined, riding out her pleasure, her body suddenly going rigid. Her hands were still on Adrian’s thighs and she scratched him sharply, though her dull nails could not break his skin. Trevor was breathing heavily behind her, close to his own end. He pressed her harder against the blankets, his hand tight on the back of her neck as he thrust into her once more and strained, grunting and spending himself, pulling free just as he exploded between her thighs then allowed himself to sag atop her, crushing her beneath his weight. The sound of laboured breathing filled the loft.

Trevor only rested for a moment, catching his breath and sliding his dick indulgently between Sypha’s slicked thighs. Then he rolled off of her onto his back, still panting, his hand searching for Adrian’s and squeezing lightly.

“Fuck,” Trevor said breathlessly after a moment, his lips – stained by his own blood from Adrian’s bite – tilting in a tired smile. “That was… wow,” he tried, his chest still rising and falling with his deepened breaths.

“Mmm,” came Sypha’s voice, barely managing to make the small utterance at all. She was languid as she lay exactly where Trevor had pushed her down, still on her stomach, ass in the air, her head turned to the side with a completely stupefied, satisfied look on her face. Her cheeks were wet from her eyes watering, and still reddened, and the small hairs around her face were plastered to it with sweat. Her back was shiny with it.

Adrian studied them both appreciatively. He was still excited, and still wanted more, even though they all needed a moment to recover. The smell of sex, sweat, and ale was strong, hovering around them like a miasma. He brushed a lock of Sypha’s hair from her eyes. She looked up at him blearily, her face the picture of contentment. Trevor patted her ass.

“You gotta give her a sec to get her head working after that,” he said. “Bet she can’t even make a whole sentence right now.”

As if in protest, Sypha mumbled something at him. “Mm. Lotta dick,” she said and Adrian realized that Trevor was completely right and he patted her like Trevor had, smiling to himself. He moved her so she was lying beside Trevor on her back and she was totally complacent in his arms, like a limp noodle. The hunter pulled her against his side and kissed the top of her head.

“That’s right Syph. Lotta dick. Just rest up for a minute,” he suggested, and she mumbled again and snuggled against his shoulder.

Trevor winked at Adrian and he found himself blushing hotly, and staring at the mess that decorated his cock and thighs. He warmed, urged froward perhaps by his drunkenness, and perhaps by a simple desire to give service and pleasure.

He crawled between Trevor’s legs and bent, inhaling, feeling a strange burning shame rolled together with excitement as he opened his mouth and began to lick away the cooling mess there, tainted with sweat and the scent of testicles. Adrian passed his tongue over the skin on Trevor’s thighs, pushing his legs open so he could get everything, eagerly licking away Sypha’s taste and the hunter’s spend.

There was no complaint, and he felt them both watching him do this odd, rather unseemly thing, which he could not deny made something inside him tingle with satisfaction. Trevor’s hand threaded into his hair, and Adrian looked up as he was licking the taste of Sypha from his softening cock, meeting the hard blue of the man’s eyes.

Trevor traced his lower lip with his thumb, and Adrian kissed it and let his face be cupped by the roughened palm, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “Did you want to- uh… can you do a _little_ bite?” Trevor said, working out the right words.

He nodded, his eyes tingeing red as he opened them again, his heart kicking up in delighted anticipation.

Sypha had rolled against Trevor, her arm around his chest, and she was watching this exchange between the men, slowly tracing small patterns over Trevor’s pectoral with her fingertip. Adrian could smell her, and Trevor all over her still, and he was torn between continuing to clean with his mouth, or taking the offer to bite for pleasure, which is clearly what Trevor meant by ‘little bite.’

He didn’t want to leave Sypha as she was – still messy and recovering her faculties, her heart rate not yet totally calmed. He opted to tend to her first, shifting so he was in between her legs, and beginning to lap away the now cool mess that painted her core and folds and the white flesh of her inner thighs.

Adrian found abandon, licking and cleaning her until no trace of Trevor’s come remained and the skin was perfectly smooth, if a little damp from his tongue and the continual moisture which still slicked her most private places. Adrian loved it here between her legs. He liked to do it to both of them, but he had to admit that he was completely enamoured with the way Sypha’s body was made, her tiny mound with its soft nest of neat auburn curls which smelled divine, and was impossibly hot and slick, seemingly always ready for his mouth, or his hand, or his prick. He didn’t have to worry so much about his teeth, which were rather in the way when he tried to service Trevor orally, although he loved to do that too.

He felt Trevor’s hand in his hair again and moving along his back as he buried his face against Sypha and began to press his tongue into her, and to slide it along her slit, gently passing over the small spot that made her gasp and made her thighs tighten on either side of his head, her hands tangling into his hair. Was it too soon? Did she need time to recover still? He wanted her while everything was fresh and she was still stretched open and her sex was inflamed with blood and arousal.

“That feels amazing,” she said, her voice thick, and he was encouraged to continue. He began to touch her, well aware of his claws, and trying to be careful of them as he traced the perfect skin on her thighs, passing over the temptation of the artery in her leg, which still bore the faint remnants of his first bite.

That was enough to bring his arousal back. The mix of her taste and seeing it there – a small pink scar, just two tiny, careful divots where his teeth had sunk in before. He kissed the spot, sucked a large, dark hickey into it, and swallowed when his mouth watered with want.

As he worshiped Sypha – because that is exactly what he was doing – he was aware of Trevor sitting up and moving behind him, running his hands along the length of his back and over his rear, then dipping between his legs, stroking the backs of them teasingly and distracting him from what he was doing. Trevor’s fingers played lightly over him, tracing his testicles, taint, and trailing over his opening, and Adrian stiffened, remembering the sensation of their coupling, and the way it had rendered him completely open and nearly helpless. He shivered, grazing his teeth over Sypha’s skin and feeling the answering curl of her fingers in his hair.

“Go ahead love,” she said to him, spreading her legs further so he could access a good spot to pierce her with his fangs. He blushed all over when Trevor touched him again, hand lingering longer over the tightened ring between his cheeks, and he rested his forehead against Sypha’s leg, distracted by the attention.

“I wanna fuck you while you eat her pussy,” Trevor said to him, and he swallowed, pressing back onto the finger, indicating that he was more than willing to be taken that way. Sypha would see – she would see him laid bare, opened and completely submitting, and he could kiss her sex and taste her and even press his teeth into her while it happened, and all of that sounded perfect to him.

“You can drink first,” Sypha suggested, stroking his hair more sweetly. “While Trev gets you ready,” she added, and Trevor must have found the pot of lubricant they had used before, because a coated finger was being pressed against him, spreading the melting substance between his cheeks and dipping into his hole. He squirmed at the feeling, the vulnerability of it, the knowledge that Sypha and Trevor could both see the way his face contorted as he was touched in a deeply private place.

And Adrian, too willing and drunk to bother being ashamed, acquiesced eagerly and let Trevor ready him far more easily than the first time.

There was almost no pain; the slight sharpness when Trevor’s finger sank in was barely worth registering, especially as he began to search for a good place to bite, wanting very much to taste blood now that it had been freely offered. He glanced at Sypha with reddened eyes, his fangs glistering with wetness, tingling with the sensation of the air passing over them in their aroused state. Sypha smiled at him and nodded slightly and Adrian bit her inner thigh superficially, not allowing his teeth to go deep enough to reach the big artery.

This was a New Thing. Feeding, but not from necessity. Rather it was for no other reason than pleasure and indulgence, and it was offered freely. He might have felt guilty before – no, he _would have_ felt guilty before – but he didn’t now. He just felt good, and loved.

“Ah,” Sypha winced and tightened with discomfort, but she soon relaxed, leaning her head back and twisting her fingers in Adrian’s hair again. “That’s not nearly as painful as your deeper bites,” she noted, and Adrian sucked the two punctures, finding that little blood spilled from them, but he still enjoyed the taste of it on his tongue, and allowed himself to luxuriate in sucking the surrounding flesh red and purple with his mouth. Pleasure flared, and Trevor took this opportunity to add a second finger inside of him, which made Adrian groan into Sypha.

He was very hard again, dripping, and ready. He did not typically need very long to recover from orgasm, and the attention and blood cut that time even shorter. Before long he was pushing back impatiently onto Trevor’s fingers and taking them into himself as deeply as he could, feeling that delicious, full-body shiver build whenever Trevor brushed and rubbed the place that he’d touched before – the one which made him feel like he was coming when he was only growing more excited, and hard enough that his cock was like stone between his legs, leaking and dribbling a helpless mess onto the blanket.

His teeth broke Sypha’s skin again as Trevor worked him – a shallow scrape in the already abused place he’d been sucking at – and she squeaked, reminding him that it hurt. He kissed her thigh apologetically and mouthed the bite, purring when he pulled back and took in the sight of her perfect white thigh covered in darkening hickeys and the four harmless, shallow wounds left by his teeth. His body felt warm and loose and he was deliriously happy.

“Sypha,” he said, finding his voice low and rough. “Is it okay?” he asked her, wanting to be sure he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. Her fingers softened in his hair and she met his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” she said, “Mmmm, your eyes are so pretty like that,” she told him, touching his cheek.

He shied, knowing she meant his reddened, vampire eyes. “Really? It’s not… disconcerting?” he asked, a little embarrassed. He never appeared less human than when his eyes were fully coloured, the sclerae entirely red and even his irises sometimes changed if the excitement was especially intense. Add to that his long claws and the mess of her blood that stained his lips and teeth, and he knew he would terrify most humans with a single glance, even if he _was_ in the process of taking Trevor’s fingers halfway up his ass and shuddering in abject pleasure every time the hunter moved them.

She shook her head. “No,” she smiled, “Nothing like that. You’re beautiful,” she said, and Trevor moved his hand, once more brushing that place inside him that made his toes curl, and he moaned and moved his hips, wishing for some friction around his cock. His claws dug sharply into the blankets and he drew a ragged, beleaguered breath, leaning against Sypha to try and gather himself as he felt the delicious tendrils of heat wrap around him and begin to pull him apart.

Trevor slowly eased his fingers free and Adrian whined and looked back, momentarily confused.

“Miss me already?” he teased, giving Adrian a pinch on the rear. He jumped and glared in reproach. Trevor patted his ass in mock apology. “Turn over,” he said, and Adrian laved Sypha’s thigh once more before acquiescing and turning so he lay on his back with his legs spread, his dick slapping his belly heavily when he did so. Trevor was coating himself in lubricant, and he pressed Adrian’s legs open wider, encouraging him to bend his knees to give him better access, which he did without resistance.

Adrian watched Trevor slick himself, thinking of last time, knowing it would hurt, but also knowing that it would only be for a moment, and the more relaxed he was the slighter the pain would be.

Relaxation was not hard to summon at present. His body was pliant, willing, and he let out a soft breath, finding Sypha’s fingers twining with his own.

“You ready for me?” Trevor asked him, squeezing his own cock at the base, displaying it fully engorged and thickened with his excitement.

“Ready,” Adrian said quickly, his thighs quivering with anticipation. He knew it was going to feel impossible, especially at first. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“Good. I can’t wait to feel you again,” Trevor told him as he positioned himself and pressed to Adrian’s opening, sliding along the line of his crevice, teasing the sensitive hole until Adrian was whimpering for more. He pushed against Adrian’s center, the dull, wide head of his cock stretching it a little at a time, then he applied pressure until he pushed past the ring of muscle there and Adrian writhed from the sensation and finally hid his face against Sypha, who told him again that he was beautiful and bent to pepper him with sweet little kisses all over his face and hair.

It was easier this time. The pain was sharp, but far less than before, and Adrian was not afraid, and not uncomfortable. He wanted this. He loved it, and he felt his body accommodating Trevor as he sank slowly in, then withdrew and returned, going deeper. He repeated this, stretching Adrian and filling him a little more with each in-stroke.

It made the blonde sweat and paw the blankets blindly even as he searched for Sypha and tried to pull her closer, speaking incoherently. His eyes were wet and glassy, his face burning with a delicious kind of shame, a _good_ shame that flared when he finally managed to look at Sypha as Trevor sank into his body.

“Uhhnn… mmmm… f-fuck,” he mumbled, thinking that they could both see, they both _knew_ ; he was totally, willingly, powerless. He was being unwound, impaled, rent perfectly asunder.

Trevor touched his chest, drawing his attention, making him still. “Hey,” he said gently, and Adrian came back to himself, his eyes clearing slightly, though he was still being overwhelmed by sensation. Trevor felt huge inside him, just like before, and it was so intimate, so _much_.

“T-Trevor,” he said in a raw whisper, closing his eyes and keening when Trevor pushed deeper.

He knew he was making an obscene noise of pleasure, something like a groan rolled together with a whine that dropped lower as his partner occupied his deepest place, the walls of his body wrapped snugly around the hunter’s cock. The fit was so tight, so perfect. He had no way of describing how closely connected he felt like this.

“Ready for Syph?” Trevor asked him, shifting, pulling slightly out only to sink back inside, finding that delicious place that made Adrian feel like he was coming apart at the seams. He could feel his hips twitching, and Trevor had his hands under Adrian’s knees, pushing them up so his ass rose a little and gave the perfect angle for Trevor to stroke him where it felt best. The hunter’s hair was falling in his eyes. His chest was reddened, glistening and damp. Adrian nearly forgot to respond to his question.

“Y-yes. Please,” Adrian answered, swallowing and watching the Sypha move beside him. She straddled his chest first, letting him feel the wet heat of her against his skin, and Adrian fisted the shredded remains of the blankets in his hands.

The damage wrought by his mouth was blatantly displayed on her opened thigh, superficial and so fresh that he could see her blood seeping freely from his bites, and the bruises hadn’t yet come fully to the skin, but were blooming beneath it a little at a time. It was such an erotic image for him that it stole his breath. He shuddered and felt a surge in his cock and Trevor’s thickness was sliding inside his body, stretching his passage, which quivered and contracted as he looked on Sypha’s thigh and her leaking opening, displayed right in front of his face.

He wanted to say something, but his voice seemed to be a remnant from another lifetime when his body was his own and not an instrument of enjoyment for his lovers to play at their leisure. He moved his mouth, his tongue, showed his teeth, and finally just relented and lay still, too overwhelmed to communicate, and knowing that he may only be capable of whimpering and moaning anyhow.

Trevor shifted again inside him, sinking finally to his full depth, and tears collected at the corners of Adrian’s eyes, leaking down the sides of his face into his ears and hair. He couldn’t really explain the tears, even to himself. It was so much at once; he was very drunk and he felt so many things together and the tears simply came of their own accord, like his soul was overflowing.

Sypha bent and kissed them tenderly away, touching his face and shoulders with gentle fingers, and Trevor stroked Adrian's forearms, urging him to relax his hands, which were balled tightly into fists, still clutching the blanket like a lifeline.

“Adrian, it’s alright,” Sypha said to him in a very soft voice, still touching him in the same way. “We’ve got you.”

Trevor followed the outline of one fist until Adrian finally gave up and opened his hand. He laced their fingers together.

“Just relax,” he urged, peering around Sypha from one side, having stilled his movements. His face was flushed, and his hair was damp with sweat “Do you want to stop?”

He inhaled deeply, but he couldn’t seem to answer the question. He couldn’t seem to think in whole and complete thoughts, but he absolutely did not want to give up the incredible connection he was experiencing in the moment. He squeezed Trevor’s hand, shaking his head.

“We love you,” Sypha told him and bent to kiss him.

Her lips were perfectly soft, and he felt her tongue along the seam of his mouth, asking him to open to her. He did, and she dipped her tongue in, letting it slide over his, kissing him slowly.

When she pulled free Adrian was lulled. He felt soft all over, so full and fucked and wonderful, and he was more than ready to taste her between her legs again.

“Want you,” he told her, the words simple because it was all he could muster, and she obliged him, moving until she was in the right position, then she lowered her opening over his mouth and nose and covered him. The scent was immediately everywhere, and her heat was exceptional. He groaned into her, letting her smother him, his hands fumbling for her thighs.

He began to lick her center eagerly, sucking her nether lips and playing them with his tongue, finding the spot she liked and feathering over it quickly and lightly. She moved atop him, grounding herself onto his face, and Adrian moaned, and the moan was swallowed by her body. Her sweet moisture coated his chin, his lips, and he quietly reveled in the whole experience.

Trevor was grasping his thighs as he began to move again, thick length sliding out a few inches, then deliciously back inside, over and over, until Adrian was barely aware of himself at all. He felt like he didn’t exist, like he was personified by the sensation of being stretched, filled, and superbly suffocated at the same time, and any last traces of anxiety inside him evaporated as he found a sense of safety and elation in simple submission, relaxing every part of himself and letting them touch him and make him feel good.

He didn’t let his claws do any harm. He made his mouth a velvet-soft tool of pleasure, not allowing his sharp teeth to so much as graze the delicate tissues of Sypha’s sex. He had her moaning and mewling atop him, and it felt like she was riding his face. Fucking it. Like Trevor was fucking his ass. All he had to do was submit, to oblige them. It was divine. He’d finally found the perfect way that all of them could fit together. Every breath was laden with the scent of Sypha’s core and his ears were full with the sounds of their bodies together, Trevor’s testicles slapping against his skin when he drove inside, and all of their laboured breathing mingled into one sound.

Adrian’s cock throbbed between them, slapping his stomach every time Trevor thrust inside him. He wanted contact there, wanted to be stroked, but he didn’t want to spoil the consummate sensation of being joined with them both. He loved Sypha’s hands on his hair. He loved the way her fingers curled against his scalp when his tongue moved faster than a human’s could to pleasure her and soon she was cresting atop him and squeezing his head tightly with her thighs, bucking hard against his face. He slowed his tongue, lapping gently at the renewed moisture that flooded her after her orgasm. Trevor pushed his legs wider, and he was thrusting into him with greater speed, the whole length of his dick sliding perfectly over the secret place inside Adrian’s body that consumed him with pleasure.

“Trev, one second,” Sypha said between pants.

Adrian barely heard her, was only dimly aware of her speaking at all, as most of his mind was being used to appreciate how good he felt in the moment. He was confused when she suddenly left him, the cold air on his face an unwelcome and harsh contrast to being smothered in her warmth, but all she did was switch directions, then she was back atop him, and Adrian found himself looking at her from behind instead of gazing up along her body at her perfect breasts. It was different, yet not unwelcome. He would worship any part of her, although he had not expected this.

She lowered her sopping sex over his face again and draped herself over his body, engulfing his ignored erection with her mouth. Her breasts were crushing against his stomach and Adrian was dragged to some new and previously unimagined level of enjoyment as Trevor moved within him, and he found he could see the tight little hole between Sypha’s cheeks which he’d never much thought of before.

He remembered Trevor telling him that they’d experimented with anal sex together, and Adrian grew impossibly hard thinking of it, imagining Sypha being stretched open like Trevor was presently doing to him. He thought about both of them inside her together at the same time, her tiny figure absolutely filled by their two cocks, one behind, and one in her sex, and probably they’d be able to feel each other inside her, too.

He moaned into Sypha’s slit and traced his finger between her cheeks and over the small hole, teasing it lightly. He felt her hips jerk in answer, so he pressed his finger more firmly over the same spot, and he heard her groan, and saw her shift so he had better access. She began to suck him in earnest, her velvet mouth coating him with saliva, her tongue swirling around the head of his erection as she bobbed over it, gripping him firmly by the base.

“Syph you look amazing with his cock in your mouth like that,” he heard Trevor tell her.

She and Trevor fell into a rhythm together – when he pulled out of Adrian she was all lips and tongue around his glans, and when Trevor thrust in again Sypha had Adrian’s cock against the back of her throat, nearly gagging on him. He realized that at this angle he was going much deeper into her, actually he was _in_ her throat, his dick was sliding all the way in until the fine gold hairs on his pubis touched her chin and she was not protesting in the slightest. She even cupped his testicles in one hand, rolling them lightly in her fingers.

This, in combination with Trevor stretching him and moving deeper and harder and faster was quickly pushing him toward completion and he was moaning aloud, barely able to lick Sypha anymore because he was gasping for breath, sucking in air in ragged lungfuls. He was grasping her thighs for dear life, trying simultaneously to sink himself back onto Trevor and get deeper into Sypha’s hot mouth, but they had him at their mercy and he could only coast along as they worked him between them.

He was completely yielding, brooking absolutely no resistance, barely registering more than the fact that every part of him was buzzing with sensation. It was building and now Trevor was striking that place inside him perfectly with every stroke and Adrian could hear him grunting low in exertion and enjoyment.

“Jesus you are tight. You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice barely recognizable for its roughness.

Trevor kept fucking against him and Adrian felt like he couldn’t take it, he was burning, his skin was afire, and he felt so full that he didn’t know how to wrap his mind around it. He was going to burst. Then Trevor was pushing deep into him and he grunted something sub-vocal and Adrian felt him come, knew it by the way his fingers dug at his spread legs and how he thrust hard one last time and stayed there as he pumped Adrian full of his seed. He could feel the heat of it filling him.

Sypha’s legs clamped against his head and he felt her cresting as well, but he could barely acknowledge it because he was blanking, seeing nothing, like he’d been jolted from himself.

He couldn't hold back. He jerked, his body tensed all over as he spilled into Sypha’s throat, his body wracked with spasms of pleasure that rolled through him powerfully, and left him a trembling mess, panting rapidly. He tasted his own blood – he’d actually cut himself on his fangs, though it was healing already. He smoothed a weak hand along Sypha’s rear with affection, his body limp and still zinging with aftershocks, Trevor still inside him as well. The hunter was draped rather haphazardly atop them, trying to catch his breath.

Sypha was panting too, a fresh infusion of her wetness soaking Adrian’s chin and cheeks. He licked her folds and she jerked in answer. “Whoa, really sensitive,” she said in a wavering voice.

Adrian had loved everything he’d done with them before, but all of this was simply _more_. He was floating on a fluffy pink cloud, soft all over and completely satisfied. He felt Trevor slipping out of his body and he let his legs fall back to a more natural position; they flopped down, boneless.

He purred, absently kissing Sypha’s thighs, licking the small wounds he’d made with reverence. She was slumped over him, her head on his hip and her knees on either side of his head, her leaking entrance right in his face. Trevor came to lie beside him, his body sweaty and limp.

The three of them laid in a motionless pile, totally spent. Adrian drifted on his pink cloud, not a single thought in his head. Even though it was finished, he still felt a sense of being full, as though his sudden emptiness made it more apparent just how much space Trevor had taken up inside him. Now that he was no longer wrapped around it he was somehow even more aware of it – a sort of loose openness. He wanted to touch himself there to feel if he was in fact visibly stretched. The mere thought was delicious.

Eventually, Sypha stirred. She rearranged herself so she was lying the normal way on Adrian, letting her head fall on his shoulder, her hand reaching for Trevor and laying over his breast. She sought an unshredded portion of the blanket to pull over them and relaxed, kissing Adrian’s jaw before laying her head over his chest.

Trevor snuggled closer. He threw his leg over Adrian’s, and his arm over he and Sypha. He felt Trevor’s lips meet his halfheartedly, but he let his eyes close and he slept, and so did they.

They shared a short nap together, perhaps ten minutes.

Adrian was roused by Sypha moving on top of him. He groaned, needing a moment to remember where he was.

He was still a little drunk, though it was less. He was entirely relaxed, thoroughly fucked, but also sticky and damp and for a moment he was confused, then he knew Trevor and Sypha were against him and remembered being completely, willingly at their mercy. He remembered perfectly the sensation of having Sypha on his face, her taste in his mouth as she took him into her throat, and Trevor inside him, going so deeply that Adrian felt as though they were fusing together.

It had been euphoric, and within the experience was a silent thing that had occurred which Adrian could not fully comprehend, even now. Something had transpired in the course of their coupling. He’d found a new kind of freedom. He’d given in to them, totally, and that moment of surrender had been sublime.

He felt Sypha kissing him – a shower of little touches of her lips over his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks – and Trevor was rubbing her back while he breathed against Adrian’s neck. He didn’t really want to move yet. He was still overcome with it all, and basking in the afterglow, although he _did_ want to at least wipe his face, which he did with a corner of the blanket.

He slid one arm around Sypha and tangled his fingers into her hair, letting his eyes close again. He felt her breath deepening; she was falling asleep on his chest.

It was Trevor who shifted onto an elbow a few minutes later so he could look into Adrian’s sleepy gold eyes and carefully stroke his face with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice very low and sweet.

Adrian leaned into the touch. Trevor dipped to kiss him.

It was undemanding, gentle, their mouths sliding together in a familiar dance, tongues connecting. Trevor prodded his fangs, offering, and Adrian accepted, just savouring it between them, letting it work into him, nourish him. He broke away, feeling exhaustion pulling at him. He could hardly stay awake to kiss anymore. He licked the red from his lips, brushing his nose against Trevor’s jaw.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered, already feeling himself drifting.

“We wore you out,” Trevor smiled, brushing a few hairs from his face. “Just close your eyes. I love you.”

Adrian’s eyes were already closed.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought, REVIEWS are so encouraging and helpful!
> 
> I just want to get down on my knees and thank everyone for the incredible response this story has garnered recently. I am so touched, and so grateful for all of the kind words, feedback and support. THANK YOU!


	35. Part Thirty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming at you from seemingly endless lockdown. My province has a stay at home order now, so that's like... lockdown plus? Lockdown 2.0? Hope everyone is staying safe. It's my birthday this week, and I am super bummed that I can't even go for dinner or see any friends. Ughhhh at least I have fanfic. I also have tumblr now. If you wanna talk fic or you are just bored as fuck, I'm [cricketsong1985](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/cricketsong1985).  
> Enjoy the chapter!

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-Five**

Early the following morning Adrian woke still buried beneath Sypha, with Trevor strewn partly over him and snoring steadily. He was warm and comfortable. His lovers were deeply asleep. He stroked Sypha’s hair and kissed the crown of her head, turning and nosing Trevor’s temple and kissing him too.

He was deliciously relaxed, every inch of his body content.

He was also absolutely, unbearably filthy, and couldn’t remain as he was, no matter the loveliness of their arrangement. It was not yet light out; he suspected they would want more sleep, but he couldn’t stand the feeling of what clung to him, _in_ him. Normally, he would never go to sleep before washing after what they’d done, but he’d been so tired (and drunk) that he’d dropped off without meaning to.

He wiggled free and hurriedly went to bathe before he did anything else, the freezing well water a blessing in his soiled state. When he was freshened to his satisfaction he brought water so his lovers would be able to clean up when they woke, and quickly got dressed.

Once clothed, he took a moment to gaze fondly down at his two most important people as he finger combed his damp hair, thinking on the night before and feeling his heart swell to near bursting at the sight of them. He was overcome by his own sentimentality. Oh, how he loved them. It was almost painful to see them lying there together, perfect in every way, and _his_.

They knew him through and through and they loved him totally, with all of his inhuman tendencies and inclinations.

What a rare and precious thing.

It was _exactly_ what his parents once had, he knew. This was a deep, beautiful, unshakable love. A love powerful enough to bring him to his knees. Total acceptance.

He felt a little giddy. Surreal.

Sypha was laying against Trevor on her side, her knees bent, her arms curled in front of her. She often slept in a tiny fetal ball – probably from having to take up as little space as possible in her caravan – and her face was peaceful in sleep. Her lips were relaxed, but still full and inviting, and never mind the trail of saliva that had dribbled onto Trevor’s arm, or whatever was crusted in her hair from the night before. He wanted to gather her close and devour her with kisses.

Trevor was sprawled in his typical fashion, barely covered by the blanket even though the barn was chilly. His face was completely relaxed, his lips parted and soft, his beard now grown long enough that the hairs were beginning to curl. He was loosely holding Sypha, and his fingers were twitching absently as he dreamed.

They were perfect.

He let them sleep, moving silently to lay out their clothes for them and leave them what they would need to wash up, fresh canteens of water to drink, and a feather light kiss on each of their cheeks.

They couldn’t spare much extra time this morning. He didn’t know how long the journey to the castle would take, but they would have to leave their wagon with Hana and travel on horseback. Adrian himself would be on foot because there were only two horses, or perhaps some of the time he would ride double with Sypha.

He wanted to leave by sun up, so it was good that he had no hangover. He spent a few minutes combing through their belongings in the dark to select only what was necessary for function and survival. When he was satisfied that he had everything they should bring set aside he left the barn and went to the house.

It was still dark, but there was grey light coming over everything, and the sense of night was waning with the approach of dawn. It was clear for the first time in days, though the air had a frigid bite. It hung motionless, the treetops barely stirring.

Adrian mounted the porch, eyeing the depression in the wall where the doorknob had lodged thanks to his drunken antics the night before. He winced a little, replaying the scene. He was not used to alcohol, and had never been quite that drunk before. It was fun, although he knew he’d been something of a liability, too intoxicated to judge his own strength. It was a small wonder he hadn’t broken more, but it had also been rather wonderful to let go and have a good time.

For the first time in many years Adrian found he could simply be himself. He could relax with Trevor and Sypha, and he was getting a lot more comfortable with sex and everything else that came from opening up to them like he had.

Now really wasn’t the time to reflect on that, however; expedience was of the greatest import. He opened the door and strode in, looking around for Hana. She was on the couch, her hair still loose although she was obviously awake, wrapped in her woolen shawl. He saw her tense almost imperceptibly when he came in, but she quickly composed herself and nodded in greeting, squinting at him in the dark. There was no fire in the hearth yet, no candles or lanterns lit. The house was cool.

“Good morning Hana,” he said politely, stepping further into the room.

She grunted in answer – obviously not in the best shape. She pulled her shawl closer around her, huddling into it.

Adrian moved gracefully to the hearth to make a fire. The kindling lit readily and the fire spread, a lovely flare of warmth and light quickly growing to consume the fuel. Once he was satisfied that it was stable he added a larger log, then went to retrieve some water to make tea.

Hana watched him through bleary eyes, slowly shifting as the warmth seeped into the room and stole away the chill that had settled into everything.

Adrian let Hana alone, seeing she wasn’t ready to socialize yet. No doubt she was suffering a hangover, and her fingers were likely stiff in the mornings. He saw her pick up her water cup to drink with both palms, unable to bend her fingers well enough to grasp it properly.

After a few minutes Adrian had the makings of a filling, if simple porridge started; he’d be able to complete the meal in short order once Sypha and Trevor came in.

“Would you like tea?” he asked Hana. She seemed to be coming alive a little more as she warmed up. There was now a dull light filtering in through the windows.

“Mm,” she nodded and finally rose, the motion slow and incontrovertibly painful for her. She wrapped herself more fully in her shawl and took the chamber pot away, disappearing outside for a few minutes.

She came back and it seemed the cold had revived her more fully. The glitter was back in her black eyes, even though she still limped and shuffled like the old woman she was. She regarded Adrian, who was no worse for wear from the night before, fresh and clean and perfectly ready for the day. She studied the gold of his eyes, the expression on his face, and she smiled with an almost supercilious satisfaction, as though it was her doing.

“Braid my hair for me Alucard,” she said, expecting his compliance as she seated herself in the rocker by the fire with the tea he’d poured for her.

He rolled his eyes at her turned back, but he obliged her, actually surprised she would let him touch her at all considering her gifts and what she’d explained of how he ‘felt’ to her.

If she was affected by it at all she didn’t show it. Adrian knelt beside her and wound her hair into the usual braid, even threading a string of small colourful beads into the length of it for her. He worked a couple feathers into the yellow leather that tied it off at the end, as he knew she liked.

She just closed her eyes and drank her tea, and by the time he was finishing with her hair there was a shuffling and the creak of the porch boards and the door opened to admit Trevor and Sypha, who squeezed through it together and closed it behind them.

Trevor looked his usual self – attractively unkempt but no worse for wear for a night of drinking – but Sypha was conspicuously green around the gills, and she dropped limply onto the couch without so much as a glance at anyone and closed her eyes, slumping around a pillow.

Hana cracked an eye and studied them, shooing Adrian away from her like he was an annoying afterthought. She examined the braid he’d done for her. “It will do,” she said gruffly, and he smiled, as he’d come to expect Hana’s surly mannerisms and he didn’t take her personally.

He brought Sypha a glass of water, sitting beside her. “Are you thirsty?” he asked her and she opened one glassy blue eye and muttered her assent, accepting the cup and draining it before handing it back to him and closing her eyes again. He stroked her back and hair, noting that she was at least clean now, if nothing else.

He left Sypha to rest in the hopes that she would take some breakfast and actually be able to seat a horse. He’d be sure to give her a very strong cup of tea, with sugar and milk how she liked it.

He moved across the room to Trevor, who’d been watching him tend Sypha, looming inside the doorway. He was already fully dressed for the road, his weapons all strapped on and his thick fur cloak over his shoulders. Adrian leaned in to kiss his cheek, feeling Hana’s eyes on him. “Sleep well?” he asked in a low voice.

Trevor smiled that handsome, confident grin which still managed to make Adrian go to mush, like a teenager with a crush. He knew his cheeks were pink.

“Oh I slept perfect,” Trevor said easily, and winked cockily, snatching Adrian by the back of the neck and giving him a very thorough, very intimate kiss as though there wasn’t anyone else around.

The dhampir was left with his heart racing and his lips tingling, but Trevor seemed wholly unfazed and patted his stomach.

“Is there breakfast? I know you’ve been up for awhile. I saw all the gear you got ready. Thanks, by the way. Syph’s certainly going to be no help,” he said under his breath, jerking a thumb at her. “Thought she was actually dead when I got up. We didn’t drink that much, did we?”

“Some of us aren’t career drunkards,” came the disparaging retort from the bundle of blue wool and copper hair on the couch.

“But now it’s paying off in spades,” Trevor answered with a casually outstretched hand and a perfectly reasonable tone.

Hana was smirking at them with unconcealed mirth, making her way slowly to the table, which Adrian noted was sort of crooked, adorned by the remains of her broken vase, and flanked by the chairs, all of them askew.

“What happened here?” she asked, surveying the scene.

“Alucard got into your ale is what happened,” Trevor answered her with a smile. “He knocked the table over. Could have been worse – he doesn’t know his own strength after a few rounds.”

Adrian shot him a glare. “Trevor that’s not- you kept refilling my cup-”

“Oh come on, it’s fine, and we had fun. I’m just teasing you.”

Hana looked thoroughly amused, and Adrian felt his face burning, his ears hot.

“I’m sorry for breaking the vase.”

She waved the apology aside. “It’s alright, no real harm done. I told you to enjoy yourselves, after all. Now, some breakfast to fortify you for the day.”

“I’ve already started something,” Adrian said quickly, eager to shift the attention off of himself.

Trevor perked up at the mention of food. “I’m starved. Need a hand?”

“Sure,” Adrian nodded and Trevor followed him into the kitchen, both of them ducking through the low doorway. The beaded curtains clicked and swished – he was getting used to the sound.

In the kitchen, Trevor pinned him against the counter and kissed him again, slowly and deeply. He slipped his arm around Adrian’s waist, holding him. He smelled good. Clean, familiar. “Last night was great,” he said after the kiss, touching their foreheads together. “Just wanted you to know.”

Adrian’s lingering embarrassment had dissolved, and he relaxed against the hunter. “I had fun too,” he said, speaking softly, leaning into him and running his fingers through the white fur of his cloak.

Trevor pushed Adrian’s hair gently aside, the back of one knuckle stroking his cheek in a deeply affectionate gesture. “I think Syph had a good time too, even though she’s not looking so hot this morning. She’ll come around. C’mon I meant it when I said I was starved.”

They gathered the items for the meal and carried them to the table together, laying everything out.

Hana had been setting things back where they belonged, slowly re-ordering the chairs and clearing away the broken pieces of vase. It looked mostly normal by the time Adrian and Trevor were putting dishes and utensils out for everyone. Hana gingerly set her tea on the table and eased into her customary chair, clearly trying to conceal the discomfort of her sore, arthritic joints.

Adrian went to stir the porridge and make more tea, leaving Trevor standing a little obtusely beside the table.

“Sit down,” Hana said authoritatively, and he obediently sat. Something was different between them since the night before. Sypha had been right – Trevor had needed to hear what she’d said to him about his family.

“So, uh- thanks,” he said to her, looking at the tabletop. “For last night, I mean. It was great. All the food and ale and stuff. It’s been… a very long time since I had a night like that, especially with good conversation and a big roaring fire. You know, just- thanks.”

Hana studied Trevor for a spell, until he was shifting a little uncomfortably and fiddling with his spoon, then she smiled, showing her missing and stained teeth, the creases around her eyes deepening. “I don’t imagine you get invited very many places, armed to the teeth like that and generally smelling like a dead night creature. Between that and some of the stories you told last night I’m frankly surprised these two are willing to tolerate you,” she gestured in the general direction of Adrian and Sypha.

Trevor’s mouth twitched with amusement. “And I guess you don’t get a lot of guests, seeing as you probably work most of them to death or scare them off with shriveled rat testicles and that tea that tastes like literal shit.”

Hana coughed into her tea, and it sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Vagrant.”

Trevor leaned forward in his chair, glaring. “Hag.”

“Drunk.”

“Witch.”

They stared each other down until Adrian broke the stand-off by setting a fresh pot of tea on the table, glancing from one to the other with evident amusement.

He went to finish up the meal – adding dried fruits and seeds. It would be filling and quick; it was nearly sunrise. They really needed to be on their way. As he came back to the table he saw that Trevor was pouring tea for Hana, spooning sugar into her cup until she gestured for him to stop. He made none for himself – he didn’t care for tea and tended to abstain, even when it was the only option.

Adrian brought the large pot and set it in the middle of the table, then went to get Sypha, who hadn’t moved at all from her spot on the couch.

He sat beside her and stroked her arm. “Syph?” he said gently, peering into her face. It pinched and she scowled and groaned, blinking at him.

“Lemme sleep more,” she pleaded, miserable.

He shook his head. “I wish I could. You need to eat something. I made strong tea, and there is milk and sugar.”

She frowned at the mention of food, but he knew she had a weakness for tea, and she sighed and uncurled, still wearing a pout. She sank reluctantly into a chair at the table and pushed her breakfast aside, cupping her mug and sipping it daintily.

Trevor opened his mouth to tease her and Adrian kicked his leg under the table. He jerked and glared at the blonde, who remained squarely focused on his bowl, the picture of innocence.

Sypha did manage to eat most of her breakfast, although it took her far too long, and Adrian and Trevor were finished before her. He poured Sypha another cup of tea and left her a glass of water as he and Trevor went to saddle the horses and prepare their packs.

When everything was ready, the two beasts were standing in the yard with their tails swishing, their saddlebags laden with supplies. Sypha was starting to perk up a little, but it was a subdued goodbye that she gave Hana, hugging her tightly and telling her that they would come back after everything was finished and see that she was alright. Hana removed one of her many amulets and looped it around Sypha’s neck.

“This will help you with the protection spells,” she said. “To channel the magic. Keep practicing them, and soon you’ll be ready for some of the other spells too. You have the book I gave you?”

Sypha nodded and patted her robe. “I have it. Thank you so much Hana. For everything. I really don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“You’re very welcome Sypha,” said the old woman, squeezing Sypha’s hands in her own. They hugged, the mage pulling Hana into her arms and holding her for a long moment before they separated, and Sypha moved to put on her boots.

Adrian hovered in the entrance, and Trevor seemed like he was going to try and sneak out without any formalities, but Hana halted him before he could weasel away.

“Trevor Belmont, don’t you dare let anything happen to these two,” she said to him in a semi-threatening tone, and he looked to the side, his cheeks pinking every so slightly. Hana continued. “You remember what I told you,” she added, and Adrian wondered what that might be.

Trevor nodded rather solemnly. “Fine, yeah, I got it,” he said. “Try not to get killed out here either. I’ll- you know, I’ll come back soon. If I can.”

“Hana nodded. “I know you will. And I’ll be here when you do.”

Trevor looked around rather awkwardly and Hana patted his arm. “Get going. I can see Alucard is anxious to be off.”

He was, in fact, rather anxious for them to be on their way, as the sun was just cresting the treetops, a blazing brightness spreading over everything and glittering off of the snow. He narrowed his eyes and was secretly thankful they’d be traveling north, so he didn’t have to look right into it. Trevor and Sypha went to the horses, and Adrian lingered in the doorway, feeling like he should say something to Hana, but at a loss as to what.

They looked at one another. The tiny, wizened woman wrapped in wool, her black eyes sagacious and sharp, and Adrian, tall, smooth and ageless, sword at his hip and his long hair fanned prettily around his shoulders. He shifted on his heels, feeling put on the spot.

“They’re waiting for you,” Hana said, glancing past him to the yard, where Trevor and Sypha were already seated on the horses.

“I know. Hana I wanted to thank y-

“There’s no need,” she interrupted before he could finish, shaking her head.

He swallowed his words, frowning. He turned to go, but he felt her watching him and turned back, meeting her stare again.

“Kill him, Alucard,” she said soberly, her twisted fingers reflexively curling around the large amulet at her throat, the one which was the same black as her eyes. “Don’t hesitate. Destroy him, and save us all.”

He stood silently in the doorway, his breaths freezing in little clouds between them, the sunlight pouring in from behind. He nodded, then he was gone.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

It was good to be back on the road. It was clear to Adrian that Sypha and Trevor were more comfortable this way. They both visibly relaxed once they were out in the forest again, Hana’s home and the safety of her protective magic well behind them. Even Adrian had to admit a certain appreciation for the familiar sense of moving forward. It was easier than staying in one place.

It took a few hours, but eventually Sypha started to come alive as her hangover waned, and by mid-morning she was her usual self, her eyes bright and her hair glinting in the sunlight.

There wasn’t a cloud in any direction, and if it weren’t for the dark blemish of the castle far ahead of them it would be easy to forget the nature of their journey entirely, especially once Sypha began to talk about the spells in the book Hana had given her, chattering away in high spirits as the horses found a comfortable pace. The trees were dusted with snow and the twisting trail was very scenic.

Adrian kept looking at the castle on the horizon whenever there was a break in the trees, watching it grow ever so slightly larger by the hour. They wouldn’t reach it today, but likely the following day. The majority of the time Adrian had known Trevor and Sypha had been spent traveling. The sounds and smells of horses and leather, the clinking of metal, and constantly moving forward had become quotidian comforts.

The snow was not yet too deep – it was still manageable for the two big mares – and he floated a few inches above it to keep his boots dry as they plodded along.

The forest was totally silent. It was strange, but considering the sharp cold of the day and with evidence of night creature activity plainly visible, there wasn’t much stirring save the odd bird, and even most of those seemed to have gone elsewhere.

The path was winding and hilly, and they were moving steadily higher. They stopped for lunch when they came upon a small rushing stream that wasn’t yet frozen over, letting the horses drink and paw at the ground until they uncovered some edible greenery. It was a fairly sedate meal; each of them was preoccupied with their own thoughts.

They perched on a downed tree, the trunk making a decent bench, although Trevor complained that his ass was cold.

Adrian nibbled at a hunk of bread and allowed his mind to wander.

Sypha sat down beside him, handing him a cup of steaming, salty broth. “Here, it will warm you up.”

He took it, heat seeping into his fingers as he dipped his bread and let the broth soak through it. “Thanks Sypha.”

“Of course,” she leaned in to kiss his temple and nursed her own cup gratefully. Trevor helped himself to a cup as well and sat on Adrian’s other side, so he was sandwiched between their warmth. He slipped his hand onto Adrian’s thigh, rubbing absently. It was so like Trevor to want to touch. He always seemed to seek it out – just a little contact. It made him think about the night before, and being between them.

It had been a lot.

The alcohol magnified everything, making the touches seem like _more._ It made him willing and complacent, and made it hard to resist his curiosity for new kinds of intimacy. Everything had a delicious glow to it, and an alluring quality that now seemed surreal and dreamlike in memory.

Being drunk made it easier to instigate sex, but he had not been prepared for everything to be so sensual and overwhelming. At one point it had almost been more than he could take, but in that instant his lovers recognized that he was experiencing something powerful, and they had offered him reassurance and support. That meant a lot.

He hoped they could try it again when he was sober and a little more himself, not coaxed forward by alcohol. That said, there were some developments he’d never expected, and he was only now fully absorbing them.

Blood that they _offered_ without his asking, and for no other reason than his pleasure. Blood in their kisses too, and the unexpected sense of freedom and safety he’d found nestled between them, very much exposed and vulnerable, yet somehow entirely certain that it was right.

It was a lot to unpack. It felt like something was changed, but it was hard to put his finger on it.

He glanced between them, wondering what it had been like for them.

Soon lunch was over and they were back on their way, plodding through the snow, which became deeper as they progressed.

Trevor guided his horse beside Sypha’s, indicating that they slow down as they came to a very rocky area with deep drifts.

“We’re going to have to go on foot here,” he said, moving to dismount. Adrian eyed the slanted, uneven path buried in deep drifts of snow. It looked like the going would be a lot slower as they continued.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

They kept on through the afternoon, the bitter cold freezing Trevor and Sypha’s eyelashes and leaving their cheeks red and raw. Even the horses had bits of frost around their noses. By the time the sun was dipping behind the mountains they had successfully navigated past the treeline, and covered the large, open expanse Adrian remembered running over when he’d come here the first time as a wolf.

They chose to make camp in a shallow cave beneath an overhanging ledge which would offer protection. The snow coverage was far less here, the bare earth exposed and dry. It was a good, secure place to camp.

Sypha began at once to work the spell of protection that Hana had taught her, making the circle large enough to encompass them, and the horses. Anything within the circumference of the spell would be completely undetectable to the outside world.

When the circle was completed, they began to unpack their small camp and make a fire.

“We’ll probably get there tomorrow,” Trevor commented, holding his hands over the fire to defrost his fingers, and rubbing together periodically to work feeling back into them. The cold hadn’t abated in the slightest, but at least the little cave was warming nicely. They had a piece of venison cooking already, and more of the broth that Hana had given them.

“If we arrive in the daytime, will it be easier?” Sypha queried.

Adrian shrugged. “I don’t think it matters. You saw the darkness around the whole place. It’s always night there if Father wants it to be. I think we will just have to get there when we can.”

“We need a strategy for fighting him,” Trevor put forth, his tone serious. “We can’t just walk in and draw our weapons.”

“He will know we’re coming,” Adrian said. “He’s likely been watching us this entire time. We can’t surprise him. He will be expecting us.”

“Why is he letting us just… walk in and confront him?” Sypha asked, her brows knit. “He could have come after us easily before now.”

Trevor shook his head. “Of course he wants us to come to him. He’s got a magic castle. It would be idiotic to give up that advantage.”

Sypha looked like she was considering this. Adrian turned the meat and stirred the pot of broth. “All we can do is be in our best fighting form,” he said. “Have our spells and weapons ready, and stay as alert as possible. Father is a formidable opponent. I’ve never beaten him, but I am much stronger than before, and we are together.”

Trevor laughed harshly. “He’s going to kill the shit out of us.”

Sypha swatted him. “Don’t talk like that. Think of the things Hana said, and Adrian’s visions. We’ve got this. We can win. We’re going to beat him.”

“Yeah, and then you know what comes after,” Trevor shot back, glancing at Adrian, who was lookout outside again. “Evil castle. Crazy blood pool, endless war. I lose an arm, we all make morally questionable life choices. All of that fun stuff.”

Sypha huffed. “Stop it Trevor. We can change those things. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Yeah, but you can never be _too_ practical, Syph. We should think about it. Like, if it’s the right arm, how and I gonna jerk off? Adrian, do you remember if it was the right arm?”

“Trevor!”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay that was terrible. But we should have some kind of plan.”

“Well, hopefully we have at least a little bit of an advantage through numbers and unexpected abilities. Adrian has his magic again, and there are the things we learned from your family’s book. I’m going to try to use the Holy spell when there is a good chance. If I can stun him for even a moment, maybe one of you can get in close enough to stake him.”

“Will a stake actually kill him?” Trevor asked, glancing at the dhampir for an answer.

Adrian found he was having a hard time paying attention to them, and he didn’t answer the question. He was distracted, watching the eerie, darkened shape of the castle beyond the mouth of the cave.

Trevor touched the dhampir’s arm and he started at the contact, looking at him as if only now realizing where he was. “Relax,” Trevor soothed, and patted Adrian’s leg. “We were just asking you about whether a stake would actually kill your father… but I guess you don’t know any more than I do.”

Adrian shook his head. “No,” he trailed, eyes drawn back outside. “I don’t know, but I’m sure he wouldn’t like it. It’s what I’d try first. That, or beheading and burning. I think when it comes down to it we will have to employ all three.”

If Trevor and Sypha said more, he didn’t hear it. He was playing it out in his mind, imagining a scenario where they actually managed to defeat Dracula and destroy him. He was caught up thinking about the gory details, about the act itself. Patricide. Murder. His fingers curled in his lap, grip tightening on nothing.

Tomorrow.

Everything was going to change tomorrow, for better or worse.

It would never be the same.

Adrian was ready to fight. The sense that they had been moving closer and closer to something monumental had grown steadily for weeks, and now it was nearly at its apex. He felt an electric energy running through him, prickling from the inside out. He was veritably shivering with it. The hairs on the back of his arms and neck wanted to stand on end. He felt like he couldn’t fit into his own skin.

Tomorrow.

Only a few hours from now, it would be upon them. Nothing was certain, and he still felt entirely helpless in the face of the deeper evil that they would face. He had no real plan for that. He was rudderless, yet he could not ever remember feeling so ready for a fight in all his life.

The times he’d faced off with his father as a youth, he’d been totally outmatched. The gap had closed a little over the years, but never enough. He’d never come close to winning. The last time they’d fought Dracula had subdued Adrian with little difficulty, slashing him down to the bone. Past the bone, actually. His heart had been quite literally visible to him, shuddering and naked in his breast, his ribs snapped like so many twigs, layers of muscle and fascia laid open. Even his guts were exposed, blood pouring from him in a river of red. His own father had done it to him.

That blow had solidified everything. Adrian had known all was truly lost when he’d felt his father’s claws stroking his bare heart, as if debating whether or not to kill him. That wasn’t the act of a sane person.

His hand went to his chest, where the massive scar marred his flesh all the way down to his hip. It had never fully healed, even when he’d begun to drink real blood again. He didn’t know that it would ever heal. Maybe he didn’t want it to. He could never let himself forget.

It had been unfathomably painful, but he was left alive. Why?

Dracula knew Adrian would never let his genocide go uncontested. He was no fool. He was forcing Adrian to confront him. To stop him.

He was ready.

Tomorrow he would kill his own father. He _knew_ it suddenly, deep in himself. This time he would _win_.

But he had to be strong. As strong as he could possibly be. He had to be fearless and unflinching, ready for anything. He couldn’t hesitate, as Hana had said that morning.

The prickle of anticipation didn’t wane as they ate their dinner, and Adrian was totally disconnected, unable to bring himself into the present for more than a few moments. He was well aware of his lover’s eyes on him. He knew that he was being unusually intense and detached, but he was incapable of anything else.

Trevor pulled the forgotten cup from Adrian’s hands when he’d been gripping the empty vessel for nearly ten minutes after they finished eating, just staring through the flames and towards the castle beyond. He and Sypha had arranged the blankets and furs, making a place to lie down and sleep. It had been an extremely long day, but he was wired. He wanted to run, the energy brimming inside him, buzzing under his skin.

He turned finally and looked at Trevor, who had said his name at least twice.

“Will you come lay down?” the hunter asked with a hint of irritation.

He stared silently at the man, studying his face, the play of shadow and light over his features. “We’re not going to lose,” he spoke with a cold certainty. “I know it.”

Trevor sighed. “Well, I’m glad you’re confident, because it would be nice to live a little longer. There’s things I wanna do still. And I think Syph wants to see her family again. Can’t do that when we’re dead.”

Adrian’s eyes were hard. He felt that detachment still, and stared at Trevor, then at Sypha. He nodded slowly. “We won’t lose. I’m going to kill him.”

“Well, that _is_ the idea,” Trevor said, frowning slightly. “But just in case it all goes to hell, I’d really like if we could lay together one more time. You know, on the off-chance that we’re all your dad’s new lawn ornaments by this time tomorrow.”

Trevor was trying to lighten the mood with his gallows humour but Adrian was simply not up for it. Sypha came beside him and took his hand, gripping it through his glove. She stroked his hair gently.

“Sweetheart,” she said to him, squeezing his fingers. “Stop looking at it,” she urged, obviously referring to the castle.

She touched his face, trying to encourage him to turn his head away. He acquiesced with reluctance, staring at her. He felt the tingle of electricity under his skin again, pressing on him from the inside.

He looked into Sypha’s giant, soulful blue eyes. He saw all of her passion and her love there, her sweetness. He blinked, shaking off the distraction, trying to bring himself into the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a barely audible voice, closing his eyes and leaning in when she stroked him. He reached for Trevor’s hand and grasped it. His fingers were hot.

“Let me touch you,” he said suddenly, speaking to them both.

Sypha hesitated. “Now? It’s cold…” she trailed, but Adrian gathered her to him and laid her back onto the furs, guiding Trevor down with her so they were side by side and he was kneeling over them, taking them in. He bent and buried his face between them, a hand clutching each of them, holding their heads, touching their hair. He breathed their familiar scents, his arms tight, pulling them close.

He needed it, suddenly. To feel them. He needed to be connected to them again and he needed it now, when he was sober and everything inside him was honed to an edge as sharp as his sword. Maybe they’d be able to understand. Maybe they would feel the way his body seemed unable to contain him. It wasn’t about pleasure. He just needed them, and he knew no way to express it in words.

“I’m- I need to feel you,” he mumbled into the space between them, sitting back to study them, his eyes questioning. He wouldn’t do it if they didn’t want him to, even if he felt nearly desperate for the contact.

“‘S’fine,” Trevor said, relaxing himself, blue eyes picking up the light from the fire.

“We’re here love,” Sypha said, pulling him down over her, allowing him to push her clothing out of the way. She was touching him gently, light fingertips moving along his arm, but she let him direct her, let him bunch her dress around her waist and ease her legs apart. Trevor undid the ties on his own breeches, but let Adrian pull them open and slide a hand over the angle of his hip, down to the curled hair between his legs.

Adrian unlaced himself and moved over Sypha. He was already rigid, and found her center quickly, his hands trembling slightly as he positioned himself against her. He pushed fully inside in one stroke and she made a surprised noise, then melted beneath him, her arms coming around his back.

He felt the fire of her body squeezing him, enveloping him, and the sound of his own staggered breathing filled his ears.

Beside them, Trevor watched. Adrian shifted to kiss him fervidly, tongue prying his lips apart and delving into the heat of his mouth, sucking bruising kisses from him while he reached between his legs, his hand deftly coaxing his body to life.

Adrian grunted – an animal sound – and he began to thrust quickly into Sypha, resting his forehead against Trevor’s chest as he concentrated on moving his hand and his hips. They didn’t speak.

He was taut, burying himself in Sypha, yet wanting a deeper connection to Trevor too. He needed him as much as he needed her. He raised his head long enough to catch his gaze, glancing to his throat, letting the red slowly fill his eyes. Trevor swallowed and nodded, his breaths jerky as Adrian worked him, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

His teeth found the place where he’d bitten before. He quickened his hand when Trevor grew tense from the pain. He began to drink in earnest, swallowing the blood that came with abandon. It took a few moments, but he found a rhythm and soon Sypha was breaking apart beneath him, mewling in tiny noises, her legs winding around him. He drove into the soft clutch of her sheath, her muscles quivering. Trevor’s breaths became ragged and shallow and his hand was buried in Adrian’s hair, fingers gripping the strands tightly as Adrian drank from his throat.

He was close, and he knew they were as well. A few more strokes and Trevor spilled with a grunt, and Adrian released him, bracing himself so he could focus on Sypha, making his strokes shallow and fast until he felt her tightening around him and heard her cry of pleasure, her fingers raking against his back beneath his shirt. He followed her over the edge, pushing himself as deep as she could take, his mouth on Trevor’s neck so it muffled his noises of completion.

When it was finished they all lay still. Adrian found himself shaking, shuddering actually. His heart was racing behind his ribs, and he couldn’t stop the trembling that had overtaken him. He withdrew from Trevor and saw his deep bite bleeding too much still, and he bit his own tongue to lick it away. Trevor couldn’t afford to be weakened right now, but Adrian needed the blood, both for the connection and the strength. He had to be powerful, so he could protect them.

He felt it working in him, throbbing hotly behind his eyes. He was very strong now, and deeply joined with them. The urgency receded. He let himself lay in place and relax, each of his hands now curled together with one of theirs, his lips still bloody. He listened to their bodies beneath him, committing the moment to memory. Their closeness quelled the din; he felt better. Calmer.

Several minutes passed. Eventually Adrian slid reluctantly free of Sypha’s heat, and laved Trevor’s throat, cleaning away the mess. He kissed his mouth, and did the same to Sypha, then he pulled them both tightly against him and settled atop them, burying his face between them and closing his eyes.

He must have slept. He didn’t recall dropping off, but he realized that something was squirming under him and he woke, finding his companions pinned and trying to get free from beneath him. Everything was fresh still, and he knew it had only been a few moments. He cradled them against his chest for a little longer, then shifted to let Trevor free, and adjusted his position so he wasn’t crushing Sypha so much.

He didn’t want to let her go. He couldn’t manage words just yet, so he kissed her with deliberate slowness, making it an apology for his haste. She welcomed his mouth over hers and drew her hands along his back and shoulders. Trevor yawned and scooted closer to Adrian and Sypha, putting an arm around them both.

It was quiet between them, and nobody felt the need to break that silence. They laid together for awhile, then got up and readied for sleep, cleaning themselves, drinking some water, and putting another log on the fire. A few minutes later found them back under the blankets together, shifting around to find a comfortable arrangement for sleep, knowing that it could very well be their last night in each other’s arms. Soon Adrian heard both Sypha and Trevor’s breathing even out, and he knew they were asleep.

The night grew long, but for Adrian rest was hard to come by. He was still too worked up. The energy fizzled in him – anticipation, excitement, fear. He knew their time together was potentially finite, but he couldn’t force himself to remain as he was.

He carefully extricated himself and padded outside, sinking against the hard frozen stone that jutted upwards beside the cave. He smoothed his hand over the surface of it, letting the intense coldness leech into his fingers and pull away his warmth. It was good. Simple. He pressed his back against it and rested his head there, breathing the gelid air until all warmth was gone from his body and his exhales made no puff of vapor any longer.

He was as cold as the stone itself after a time, as though he were part of the landscape. It quelled the crackling anxiety that swirled in him. It was what he needed in that moment.

He remained there for hours, allowing himself the space, the quiet. It was like a meditation.

There were so many unknowns, but the cold was uncomplicated, constant. For Adrian it was a way to slow everything down and breathe. It gave him clarity. It soothed his soul.

Tomorrow.

He inhaled deeply, listening to the silent, frozen world all around him.

He had no doubt in his heart, and no hesitation. He pushed his fears far away, and squashed his anxiety. Even the jittery, electric energy that had been present the whole evening waned, and Adrian simply felt ready.

He was confident, still, calm, and absolutely certain.

It was very late when he finally went back inside, so thoroughly chilled that he knew it would be cruel to sneak beneath the covers as he was. He took his wolf shape instead and laid close to his lovers, curling up and finally falling deeply asleep.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

They were on their way the next morning with little preamble. The castle was perched high on a steep ridge with tall mountains jutting up behind it. How to actually get up to that ridge was becoming something of a pressing matter, but as it turned out, Sypha was able to make ice platforms and bridges that carried them across the hardened terrain with ease. They made better time than anyone had anticipated, and by late afternoon they were drawing up the final path to the castle itself.

The day had been coloured by the sense of impending action. All of them were serious and alert, and there was less banter between them than usual. Now, as they made final stretch of the journey, anticipation was brimming close beneath the surface. Trevor kept fingering his weapons, and Sypha was toying with a small fireball, letting it grow and shrink in her hand with practiced ease.

Adrian had maintained the sense of calm and readiness he’d meditated on the night before, but the prickling under his skin was undeniably growing. He stalked forward with the grace of a predator – silent, intent, and ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.

“Holy shit this thing is way bigger in person,” Trevor marveled as they rounded a bend and the castle rose up in their field of view. He was craning his neck to try and see the top of the tallest towers. The spires disappeared into the clouds.

“You really grew up here?” Sypha asked, her voice laden with wonder as she tried to take in the confusing architecture.

“Yes,” Adrian responded, eyes roaming over the battlements and steep spires, and taking in the little windows, the seemingly impossible arrangements of towers and arching walkways between them. He thought about running and flying along those walkways as a child and frowned, glancing at Sypha instead. “It didn’t always look like this,” he added. “It’s damaged, and much darker than usual.”

Sypha studied it, absorbing the details. There was a lot to look at, especially for someone who’d never seen it before. It was impossible to really take in something of this scale in only a glance. Her brows did that thing where they knit together and made a little wrinkle between them. Finally she looked away. “I can’t believe that is all one building,” she said finally.

“It’s… imposing, certainly. Very useful for intimidating enemies. Inside is labyrinthine, deliberately confusing to anyone who doesn’t know their way. Of course, it’s also laden with monsters and traps. Father seems to relish putting intruders through a gauntlet of challenges. Mother despised that, she saw to it that many of them were removed.”

“That sounds like fun,” Sypha mused.

“I’ve mentioned before that the castle is almost sentient. It doesn’t harm anyone who lives there, or welcome guests. Only enemies and intruders.”

Trevor peered at it. “This thing is like a fucking magnet for my relatives. Historically, Belmonts have a bad habit of rushing through the front doors whips blazing. A lot of my ancestors died in there, often through sheer stupidity.”

Adrian’s brows raised, surprised by Trevor’s words. He had never heard him speak that way about other Belmonts.

Trevor snorted, scowling. “Any idiot can see that this isn’t the kind of place you just walk into and start raising hell. Even though it is the Belmont’s sworn duty to destroy Dracula, it’s pretty fucking clear that nobody could waltz in and kill him outright. Less bravery and more strategy wouldn’t have gone amiss.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing, though? Walking in and raising hell?” Sypha asked.

He shook his head. “No this is different. The world is fucked now, and so is this place. Besides, none of the other Belmonts had you guys,” he gestured to Sypha and Adrian. “And there is everything Hana told us, and what Adrian saw, and the things we learned from the creepy skin book. I’m definitely not an optimist, and I’m pretty sure we’re gonna die, but if anyone has a chance against him, it’s us.”

Sypha grinned and stood on her toes, trying to put an arm around his shoulders, though she was still too short. “Wow Trevor, that’s the best pep talk I’ve ever heard you give.”

He shrugged her off, but his lips quirked in a little smile. “Yeah, well, I’m really ready for this to be done. I’m going to punch that bastard right in the face.”

Adrian shot him a flat look. “I really don’t suggest that.”

Trevor crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up. “Watch me.”

“Now who’s got more brawn than brains?” Adrian goaded, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Shut up,” Trevor retorted and brushed past him, intentionally bumping him with a shoulder as he went.

“Save it for the actual fight you two,” Sypha chided, urging them both forward.

The path was growing markedly darker. The sun was still out, but its light didn’t penetrate the area anymore. Trevor and Sypha had to strain their eyes to see as they got closer.

The castle loomed massive in their field of view. The foul scents of death and decay were strong, but the structure still managed to evoke a wistful sense of home to Adrian, his heart twisting with longing as he took it all in. There was no space for sentimentality here, however, and he forced his feelings firmly to the back of his mind.

There were shapes materializing ahead of them, tall and moving with the wind.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Trevor said as things started to come into focus.

“You already know what it is,” Sypha answered, letting her fireball wink out.

They slowed to a halt as the front entrance finally came fully into perspective. The massive doors were partly ajar to the whipping cold wind, drifts of snow obscuring the steps which led up to them. There were no lights inside or out; it looked abandoned, like a twisted parody of a haunted house complete with stone gargoyles, crumbling battlements, and several holes smashed through the walls.

What really drew the eye were the seven corpses impaled in front of the doors. It had been a few weeks since they had used the distance mirror – there was no snow when they’d looked before. Now decomposition was more advanced, but the frigid cold had acted to preserve most of the gory details. Carmilla and the other generals rotted, forgotten, on pikes made from whole trees. Birds had picked away most of the edible flesh, and the corpses had taken on a shriveled, skeletal appearance. Carmilla’s white hair fluttered and fanned around her skull, and the red of her nails stood out in the darkness, jabbed into the wood where she had tried to pull herself free of the stake. It was a gruesome sight, and a horrible way for anyone to die, but Adrian had little sympathy for her. She’d deserved her fate.

The smell of death was unmistakable, but rather more powerful than Adrian would have expected from only a few corpses left to rot high off the ground and fully exposed to the elements. The scent of was far, _far_ greater than it should be. It hung like a miasma around the whole structure, fetid and rank, and when he looked to his side both Sypha and Trevor were holding a hand over their faces, trying not to retch.

The horses were snorting and stamping nervously, and finally Trevor deigned to lead them off the path and let them free in a small clearing, partly sheltered by some tall ledges. It wasn’t ideal – they would surely perish in this frozen land punctuated by jagged spires of stone and no trees or living plant life – but at least they could rest a bit and hopefully they would still be around later. It was a consideration that the team simply could not deal with at the moment.

Freed of the burden of the horses, Trevor, Adrian and Sypha looked at one another. Sypha spoke first.

“So… we just walk in?”

Trevor shrugged. “He has to know we’re here, like Adrian said last night. We can’t sneak up on him. Besides, the place looks kind of wrecked. I’m guessing it’s not usually so- uh- fucked?”

“No,” Adrian shook his head. “I’ve never seen it damaged this way. There must be hundreds of dead inside, soldiers from Styria. He hasn’t made any effort to clear them away.”

“Seems like he doesn’t care,” Trevor reflected, and Adrian frowned, kicking at the snow.

“He’s broken,” he said quietly. “I don’t understand it. He could easily remove the bodies, repair the damage. Also, the electricity doesn’t appear to be functional.”

“Electricity?” Sypha asked.

“Yes. To power the lighting, and some of the other technology. Usually there are lights all over. They glow blue. Without that it will be very dark inside. It will make it difficult to find our way. We will need to remain close together, and carry torches.”

“I can handle the lighting,” Sypha said, summoning fire.

“Well. There’s no time like the present,” Trevor said, standing tall. “Let’s go before we freeze our asses off out here and I lose my nerve.”

Adrian looked between them. This was it. They’d finally made it here after months on the road. There was nothing more to do but go forward. He met Trevor’s eyes and saw only the coldness of the blue there, a warrior in his element, ready for battle. He saw the same thing in Sypha. He could not have asked for better companions to fight with.

“Let’s go.”

Together, they quickly covered the last stretch of the path and came to the base of the castle itself. It emanated cold and darkness, and the odour was nearly unbearable now, wafting from within. There were huge claw marks on the doors themselves, and scorch marks flaring up the wall to one side. They passed the impaled corpses of the seven generals and mounted the steps.

Adrian put a hand to the edge of the door which already sat ajar. Normally the massive doors opened for him of their own accord, but they seemed as lifeless as everything else. He pulled and there came the screeching of frozen metal as it gave under his strength, slowly swinging outwards a few more inches, pushing back the drift of snow and creating a space large enough for them to walk through. The sickening odour rolled out, enveloping them totally as they stepped into the darkness.

The reek was even stronger inside. Adrian was tempted to set the whole thing ablaze, but he wanted to conserve his energy. He took a moment to try and adjust to it, mostly holding his breath. He saw Trevor and Sypha doing the same. They were met with a sea of vampire corpses that filled the great hall, stacked three deep in some places, many with blood and offal leaked out beneath them, now frozen solid. There was snow and ice covering much of the room, but it had at least served to slow down decomposition; the smell would have been far worse if it weren’t for the cold.

“Sypha, light the braziers,” Adrian indicated several large shallow metal dishes mounted on stone pedestals which lined the sides of the room and went up the stairs. They hadn’t been used much since the electric lighting was more convenient, but when Sypha sent fire to them they all ignited readily and the massive hall was filled with a primal glow, bathing the tapestries on the stone walls in light. It made it easier to see the sprays of blood and gore that decorated them.

“Jesus Christ,” Trevor said as the scope of the carnage was illuminated. “There must be hundreds of them in here. We can barely walk through.”

He didn’t wait, he began immediately to push forward, attempting to pick a path that would take him to the stairs without forcing him to actually climb over the dead. Sypha followed him, and Adrian rose from the floor and floated over all of it, staying close to them.

They reached the base of the steps. It was an elaborate and beautiful construct, branching off at the firsts landing into two winding, circular stairs which curved up to the next floor, connecting to it on either side of a large platform. The whole thing was strewn with more bodies, some hanging off of the stone railings, and the thick carpet was soaked through with blood and mess.

“This is disgusting,” Sypha said and gagged, turning to be sick beside one of the massive stone newel posts. She took water from her canteen and swished it around her mouth afterwards. She seemed a little steadier after throwing up.

Adrian had expected his father to appear and face them, but there was no sign of him. In fact, there was no sign that anything at all lived here. Usually there were night creatures, servants, and the castle itself generally seemed more ‘alive’ than it did now. It was utterly silent, dark, and deserted save the dead.

Sypha glanced to Adrian as they reached the top of the stairs and were met with a massive hallway ahead, leading to numerous doors and corridors. Several other paths branched from the main room as well, leading in all manner of directions.

“I hope you know where to go, because this place is like a maze.”

Adrian heart gave a painful twinge as he surveyed it and was bombarded by memories of playing here as a child, running or flying around the cavernous entrance hall, hiding in the halls, under the stairs, or among the architecture that stretched several stories overhead. “Yes, I know where to go,” he said softly, eyes momentarily far away. He shook the memories away and hardened his heart. It wasn’t the time.

He pointed to a hall which quickly led to more stairs. “I don’t know exactly where Father is, but I imagine it’s this way,” he said, leading them towards the most likely path.

Trevor looked back at the sea of dead, then ahead to the dark, winding stairs. “There is a vampire here,” he said, fingering the pommel of his weapon. “It’s him. High up. That way.”

Trevor pointed up and in the general direction he felt a vampire.

“He is making no effort to cloak himself if you can sense him,” Adrian pointed out, continuing on the path he’d already started on. Sypha lit torches for them as they went, and Trevor grabbed one in hand to help get through the areas which had none.

It took a long time to get through the winding mess of passages, halls, stairs, and doors, and if Adrian had not been intimately familiar with the castle in its entirety, no doubt it would have been a fruitless effort. The structure was so large it could house a small city with little difficulty, but Adrian and his parents had spent most of their time in only a small section of it, and it was towards this area that he led them.

The corpses thinned and slowly disappeared as they went. The battle hadn’t come this far in. The scent also dissipated, making it much easier to breathe. There were no surprise attacks by monsters, no hidden traps to spring, and no confusing illusions that warped the senses and incited panic. For all intents and purposes, the castle was dead.

Finally they emerged into another massive room, a central area that had a dozen halls leading off of it. Everything was decorated impeccably in red velvet with gold trim. The floors were polished black marble, and the mouldings and doorways were beautifully wrought oiled wood, some inlaid with gold. It was still bitterly cold, as it had been everywhere they’d gone, but there was a slight warmth here, and the scent of wood smoke.

Trevor knew where to go now; he didn’t need Adrian to lead, but they moved together down the center-most hall, and finally came to a huge arching doorway where there was a glow of firelight. After nearly an hour of wandering in near total darkness, the dim light made Adrian’s pupils shrink to tiny pinpricks.

His senses all lit up and he drew his sword, his muscles tightening in readiness. He saw Trevor draw the Morning Star, and Sypha cast a spell of some kind on herself, and on Trevor. Something Hana had taught her, he realized. Something that didn’t work on ‘creatures of darkness,’ obviously. Good. Anything they had at their advantage was good.

They moved toward the light, coming to stand side by side in the wide entrance.

The room beyond was opulent, three stories tall, flanked on one side by massive windows that looked like they came from a Gothic cathedral, with pointed arches on top and a diamond pattern in the glass. Intricate designs were worked into the upper sections. Whenever the moon or sun shone through it cast pretty patterns across the whole room.

The windows were intact, but the room had been shredded, books torn and ripped apart, furniture smashed to sticks, upholstery rent by powerful claws. It was a library – one of the largest in the castle. Shelves and walkways spanned the entire three stories around most of the room, accessible by a series of ladders that could be rolled along the different levels. Many of the books were on the floor now, and the whole space was littered with stray pages. A long table previously used for writing and reading had been overturned, ink pots lying on their sides, the liquid dried into the carpet. Various decorative items were rendered unrecognizable, bits of glass, ceramic, and jade giving little indication as to what they used to be.

Once, this room had boasted several large couches and chairs, all finely crafted and upholstered in the thickest, softest leather, or more of the red velvet that Vlad Dracula preferred. End and coffee tables had been peppered between them, littered with the most recent reading selections of the Tepes family and the other castle inhabitants. Several massive, fine carpets decorated the black marble floors. There were candelabras and lanterns aplenty to ensure good light for reading and drawing, and one corner near the windows had been dedicated entirely to painting; it contained easels, brushes, and rows upon rows of paint pots, the raw pigments and other essentials required to bring images to life on canvas.

All of that had been utterly wrecked, deep gouges in the marble and stone where Dracula’s claws had torn through in a seeming fit of rage, the pigments and easels smashed, the furniture destroyed. This had been one of the most popular castle rooms, a place Adrian’s family had spent a lot of time together. Now it was a shadow of its former self, a testament to the broken state of their lives.

There were two enormous fireplaces in the room – one on each side – and the glow came from one of them, which was lit and roared merrily, oblivious to the disastrous state of the space around it.

In front of the fire stood a singular figure with its back to them, silhouetted by light from the hearth. A very tall, very familiar figure, wrapped in the folds of a dark cape that fell nearly to the floor. Waves of loose black hair fell just past his shoulders.

Adrian took a few steps into the room and paused, raising his sword. Trevor and Sypha flanked him, equally ready.

For a moment nobody spoke or moved, though a tension began to rise in the air, and it seemed the fire burned a little brighter. Adrian felt his magic stirring in his gut. His sword hummed against his fingers.

Then the figure turned to face them.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the thick of it now. The trio has been through good times, bad times, and everything in between. Adrian has grown so much since those first chapters, and we've seen a beautiful love unfold between he, Trevor, and Sypha. I've come a long way as well, and I hope I can do this thing justice as we move into the next couple of chapters.
> 
> It would mean so much if you let me know what you think and that you are still reading. Please consider leaving kudos or a review. Reviews have helped shape my writing and this story, and I really would not be here right now without them. Thank you again for the support!


	36. Part Thirty-Six

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Part Thirty-Six**

Adrian’s fingers curled around the grip of his sword, every muscle ready to spring to action. He felt Sypha raising power beside him, the fluctuations in the air around her making her hair stir in his periphery. Trevor was ready with his whip, the chain tinkling with his slight movements.

As his father rounded fully and stood before him Adrian took stock of him, trying to pick up any outward sign that would give them a better idea of his state of mind. Vlad Dracula Tepes was a composed and tidy individual, always confident when facing an enemy. He let nothing of his inner thoughts show through to his opponent. Of course not. _Never give_ _anything_ _away_ was among the many lessons he’d ingrained in his son from the time he was a young child.

The outwardly cold facade was not enough to mask the evidence of his suffering and instability from Adrian, however. He could immediately tell that something was changed. Though he stood as broad and tall as ever, his father was hollowed, as if he hadn’t drunk blood in too long. His face had a severity that Adrian had never seen before, the angles of his cheeks were pronounced, his eyes ringed in faint dark circles. His clothing was not the immaculate presentation Adrian had come to expect of him. There were scuffs of dirt on his boots. His tunic was similarly soiled, and there was a small tear along the hem. His hair was dirty and stringy – not the luxuriant waves of clean black silk it usually resembled – and Adrian could smell dried blood hovering around him, could see it soaked along the edges of his cape, a spattering of it spread over the front of his clothing.

There was something disturbing in the crimson eyes that met his own. They were already fully reddened, but that wasn’t it. They held a menacing, feral coldness. Very little of the fierce man Adrian had known all his life was evident here. He had never observed such an expression, like that of a wild animal. Dangerous, yes, but flat. There had always been fire in Dracula – whether it was the ardent glow of his love for his family, or the venomous burn reserved for his enemies – he was always moved by his passion, but now it was seemingly absent.

The past year and a half of living in a world without Lisa’s soothing presence had taken its toll, this much was clear. His father was suffering terribly, but he was no less imposing than before, and emanated a nearly palpable aura of danger.

Adrian bristled as it rolled over him, his heart rate increasing with the sense of approaching battle. He took a step forward, jaw firmly set.

“Father,” he said, keeping his voice stern, level.

“Son,” came the answer as Dracula took a step closer to him. They stared at one another for a long moment, the fire in the hearth casting shadows around them, the red of his father’s eyes burning with hellish light.

“Your war is over,” Adrian continued, glaring. “You’ve killed thousands of innocents. It ends now.”

“ _Innocents!?_ ” he spat the word, lip curling in disgust. “Not one of those filthy beasts is _innocent_. Humanity is a vile plague on this earth. I will exterminate them in your mother’s name.” His hand curled into a fist, his voice a growl. The darkness swirled around him, the press of it nearly suffocating.

“Mother would be disgusted by what you’ve done,” Adrian countered as he took another step forward. “She would never condone your war.”

Dracula snarled, shifting threateningly, flashing his teeth. “You’ve always been too soft, boy. I don’t expect you to understand – you are blinded by romantic notions and the tenderness of youth. You deceive yourself and deny your nature, drinking the blood of animals like a common leech. You’ve been seduced by humanity; you don’t yet understand who you’re supposed to be.”

Adrian’s eyes burned, glittering dangerously. “I understand perfectly, Father. Do not make this about me, because it isn’t. They hurt you. Hurt _us_. They took Mother, but I won’t let you commit genocide in retaliation.”

The pressing darkness grew more potent, making it hard to breathe, hard to convince himself to stand tall in the face of it. He could hear Trevor and Sypha’s strained breaths, their frantically beating hearts. The heat in Dracula’s gaze flared, magic gathering around him. Behind him, the flames in the hearth leapt higher, tongues licking out around the stone of the mantle. The scent of sulfur permeated the air, which grew steadily hotter.

“I will not tolerate their existence any longer. All of them must die.”

Adrian’s heart heaved, recognizing the pain in his father’s voice – it was closer to the surface than he’d realized. It disappeared quickly, however, sealed off behind a wall of malevolence and threatening snarls.

“Father,” he said softly, closing his eyes. “I know her death hurts. I grieve with you, but I cannot allow the killing to continue. Please, stop this.”

“I will,” he answered easily, his tone becoming disturbingly conversational and smooth. “When every last one of them is dead.”

Adrian nodded, having expected this response. He opened his eyes again, gold once more meeting luminescent crimson. “Then I will stop you.”

Dracula laughed, a harsh, mocking bark. “You? You could never beat me before, what makes you think you can do it now?”

“I was alone before,” Adrian growled, baring his teeth. He felt Trevor and Sypha’s shoulders brush his – they were standing beside him, ready to fight.

The tall figure of their opponent gave a snort of derision. “You bring humans to fight me?” He studied Trevor and Sypha, eyes crawling over them, noting every detail. “A Speaker Magician, and a Belmont. Good choices for allies, but it won’t matter. You’ll die together.”

Adrian was through with the back and forth. It was pointless to keep talking when there was nothing to be achieved from discussion. Dracula was bloodthirsty and mad – he couldn’t be reasoned with at this point. If he was to be honest with himself, he didn’t want his father’s focus to stray from him to his companions. He could take a lot more than they could, and he didn’t want them to be injured. As soon as he spoke about killing them it was enough to push him to action.

He surged forward blade first, knocking his father backwards against the mantle, sending a spiderweb pattern of cracks through the stones from the impact. His blade was deflected easily with a swipe of one clawed hand, forcing Adrian to regain his footing before he could begin the next attack.

Immediately Sypha was casting something behind him and Trevor moved to protect her.

Everything else fell away as Adrian put his focus into his movements. He leveled slashes and stabs, whirling in a circular dance with his opponent, his hair flying out around him. Unfortunately, he could not land a blow with his sword, so he released it and allowed it to move independently of his body, slicing from one side while he aimed a flurry of punches and kicks from the other.

Adrian twisted, dodging as many blows as he could. His speed was usually one of his advantages. He had always been extremely fast – certainly faster than any other vampire he’d encountered – but he was not faster than his father, who was able to keep pace with him, and had the infuriating tendency to anticipate his attacks, likely because it was Dracula himself who had taught Adrian to fight.

His next jab was caught in a massive, clawed fist, yanking him suddenly forward to be hurled into the bookshelves. His head struck the stone wall behind them and the whole structure heaved and collapsed atop him, burying him in a pile of books and splintered wood. He wasted no time recovering, bursting free from the debris and blinking hard to clear his vision.

He was thrown harder after the next assault, crashing clear through the wall this time into the next room over. It took a little longer to get back to his feet after this impact. Adrian staggered from the pile of stones he’d landed in, spitting a mouthful of blood on the floor. When he made it back into the room he was in time to see Dracula’s cape swirl as he rounded and closed in on Trevor, fangs and claws bared.

“Come on you overgrown monsterfucker. I’ve been looking forward to kicking your ass,” he snapped his leather whip, challenge in his eyes.

Dracula lunged.

Trevor evaded a couple of slower, test strikes, moving fluidly out of the way in a whirl of well-practiced movements and quick lashes with his whip. Adrian knew his father wasn’t trying, he was just getting a sense of his enemy.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Trevor taunted cockily after a missed blow, raising his sword for a counterattack.

“You Belmonts are so _rare_ these days,” the vampire retorted. “I don’t want to kill you too quickly.”

Dracula spun in an instant, claws outstretched for a more committed blow, but Adrian intervened before it could land, the tip of his blade catching his father’s hand. A small slice appeared on his palm before the sword was forced aside. The scent of blood filled the room, though the wound healed instantly. Adrian immediately shot forward again. Dracula sidestepped him and kicked him squarely in the back, sending him flying. He careened across the room and impacted the tiles hard, rolling several times until he found purchase with his claws. He dragged deep furrows into the floor, coming to a stop inches from the flames in the hearth.

Sypha sent a volley of ice lances at Dracula. He pulled his cape up and they were deflected, shattering against the marble tiles where they fell.

“Strong little Speaker mage,” he purred in amusement, advancing on her.

Trevor jumped in sword first, aiming a thrust at Dracula’s side. The strike was knocked askew with laughable ease and Trevor was grabbed by the forearm in a crushing grip, forced to drop his weapon. The short sword clattered to the tiles. Dracula barely glanced at the hunter, seizing him like he was weightless and hurling him out of the way. He crashed hard into a writing desk spilling pots of ink and sheaves of paper all over. The legs of the desk caved under the impact, leaving Trevor groaning in pain atop the ruined furniture. Adrian could smell his blood after a few seconds, though he was already getting up.

Adrian pulled himself back to his feet and advanced once more, assessing what his best course of action would be. Clearly, throwing himself at his father over and over was not working. If he did the same thing again, he knew he was going to end up tossed across the room again.

Sypha glared daggers at the vampire, who towered over her by several feet. Adrian grit his teeth, watching the way he closed in on her with catlike grace, seeming to glide over the marble tiles. He inched closer, his sword hovering at his shoulder, ready to strike at the first sign of an opening.

“You’re a brave one,” Dracula said to Sypha, coming to stand before her. “But your bravery won’t be enough, Speaker. Pity there will be nobody to tell your people your story after you’re gone,” he taunted, then flipped his cape aside, blasting fire from his outstretched hand.

“Sypha!” Adrian shouted, reacting immediately. He flashed forward with all of his speed, placing himself between her and the attack. The fire struck him, singing his hair and clothes, burning his skin.

Adrian tried to cover his face, hunching his shoulders as he felt himself burning. There was an icy blast as Sypha immediately countered the flames with her magic.

“Take this you fucker,” Trevor spat, having regained his footing. He sent the flail end of the Morning Star directly at their foe. It hit him in the side of the head and everything erupted in an explosive and blinding light. Adrian was shielded by Sypha, who cast ice in front of them both, blocking the worst of the heat. He could feel his burns healing already. He was much more resilient to hellfire now that he fed properly, but the blast from the Morning Star was painful to even look at and he had to hide his face, turning from it.

A tense silence fell over the room as the smoke cleared. All three of them watched. Was that it? Was it enough? The Morning Star was heralded as being very lethal to any vampire, and it had obviously had a huge reaction to striking Dracula’s flesh.

“The Morning Star,” came Dracula’s voice, sounding irritated and distorted. “I haven’t seen a trace of it for over a century, but I’m not surprised that you Belmonts had it stashed away with the rest of your horde. Bloody nuisances.”

His silhouette became visible – intact and very _not dead_. He brushed himself off and Adrian saw that he was singed, burned on the side of his face down to the bone, but it was already healing. It was grotesque – his skin had melted off, his ear had been completely swallowed by the blast, and once side of his mouth was utterly wrecked so that the teeth and tongue were visible through the hole in his face.

“That _hurt,_ ” he snarled, even as his flesh knit itself back together and the damage slowly faded.

Trevor visibly struggled to conceal his surprise at how little actual damage the weapon had done. So far, every evil thing he’d struck with it had been completely blown apart.

“Uh… shit,” he said, taking a step back. Adrian saw that he was bleeding from a gash in his side where he’d hit the desk before. The red was soaking quickly through his tunic, staining it dark and wet.

“Last of your line, aren’t you, Belmont?” Dracula mocked casually, advancing on him. Adrian was about to rush him, but Sypha grabbed the edge of his coat and shook her head. He frowned at her in confusion.

Trevor stood straighter, readying his weapon for another strike. Dracula grinned dangerously at him, reaching for him. “I’ll take great pleasure in ending your lineage. So many of your predecessors have met their fate at my claws already, I didn’t think there were any of you left.”

Without any further preamble Dracula snatched Trevor by the throat, slamming him against the closest bookshelves. Pages flew up in a torrential cloud. Suddenly Dracula’s body grew rigid, and he dropped Trevor in surprise, stumbling backwards, eyes wide.

“Holy spell, activated by touching his bare skin,” Sypha whispered to Adrian, advancing with fire ready at her fingertips. Adrian very clearly remembered the stunning sensation of being totally incapacitated by the Holy magic. He had not been able to so much as move.

Trevor quickly took advantage of his opening. He pulled a wooden stake from his belt – one of the pieces of the shattered desk – and plunged it into the flailing figure, who was roaring with rage, blinking repeatedly and striking out blindly. The stake sunk into his chest and immediately struck bone, lodging there uselessly. Trevor’s eyes widened and he jerked on the stuck wood, trying to twist it free so he could strike again, but his window of opportunity had passed.

Dracula ripped the stake free and incinerated it with a flare of hellfire, having regained his faculties.

“Those little parlour tricks don’t work on me,” he growled, letting the ashes of the stake fall from his hand.

“Well you can’t blame me for tryin’,” Trevor shot back, cocking his arm and throwing a punch right into Dracula’s face.

It was not very effective. Not one to be discouraged, Trevor tried again, hurling a volley of blows at the huge man, but all he was doing was hurting his hands. Dracula actually stood there and watched him for several moments, until Trevor realized it and stilled, glancing up at the towering figure.

Lips pulled back, revealing sharp fangs. Trevor gulped.

“Fuck.”

Dracula backhanded Trevor so fast Adrian barely saw him move. His head snapped back and he was thrown clear out of the room. He struck the wall in the hall with a sickening cracking noise, jostling several paintings which hung there. He sagged to the floor, motionless, blood already spilling from his slack lips.

Adrian could hear that he was still breathing, but he had no idea of the extent of the damage. Another head wound was not what the hunter needed right now. An irrational anger bubbled up. He _growled_. Fists clenched, he glared at his father, who turned his back on the incapacitated man to face Sypha and Adrian.

Sypha struck with a blast of intense fire. Adrian added his own flames to the barrage. Together they advanced, forcing their enemy back. Adrian saw his eyes flash and knew he was about to teleport, but it was already too late. He disappeared, reappearing behind Adrian, slamming the edges of his hands against the junction of his neck and shoulder on either side. Adrian felt something break – his collarbone – and white hot pain erupted in his neck and chest. He was forced to drop to his knees, vision reeling.

Sypha rounded on the vampire but he was much faster, casting magic before grabbing her. The Holy spell didn’t work this time – he’d rendered the magic inert. Sypha was seized roughly by the upper arm, claws sinking into her flesh and laying it open until blood was running freely from several deep furrows. Her small figure was pulled tightly against Dracula’s broad chest as he backed away from Adrian.

The dhampir was focusing on healing the damage from the last attack. The break was not severe – probably just the barest of hairline fractures – but it was painful and it took a lot of concentration and energy to heal bone quickly. His stomach dropped when he saw Sypha being restrained and he abandoned his efforts, rushing forward to help her.

“Careful,” Dracula threatened, one long and very deadly claw grazing her throat. “Move and I’ll kill her.”

Adrian froze, eyes wide with horror. Sypha had grown very still, her eyes meeting Adrian’s evenly. She was fearless, urging him silently not to let himself be manipulated. If there was a chance, he had to take it. Winning this fight was more important than any of their individual lives.

“Let her go,” Adrian demanded, but he stayed where he was.

“No,” Dracula answered, tipping his nose into the hollow of Sypha’s throat, making a show of inhaling her skin. “She is covered in your scent, son,” he said, withdrawing slightly to study her. He dragged the tip of his claw along Sypha’s skin.

She glared daggers, trying to twist away from his touch. “Get your hands off of me,” she spat, wriggling fruitlessly.

He ignored her. “What’s this?” he raised a brow, tracing the healing bite marks on her neck with interest. He turned his crimson gaze on Adrian. “You’ve fed from her.”

Sypha tried to get out of his grasp, flailing ineffectually and kicking at him. She began to form ice in her hand and Dracula moved his hand from her throat and closed it over her fingers, preventing her from casting. He squeezed and Sypha _screamed_. There was a _crunch_ as her bones snapped easily in his crushing grasp.

“That should take care of your magic,” he growled, not letting up on his grip. Sypha panted, swallowing her whimpers of pain, She twisted and spat in his face. The gob struck his cheek and began to drip down, but he just wiped it away.

Adrian was incensed, forced into helpless inaction. He was vibrating with his anger. He had never realized how much it would infuriate him to see either of his partners harmed, but just the sight of it was making it hard to think clearly. He wanted to rush headlong at his father and tear Sypha free, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

“Let her go!” he snarled, his magic building, flames collecting around him, making his hair sway. The carpet burned away in a circle at his feet and the air around him rippled with the heat.

His opponent was unfazed, watching his display with mild interest.

“I must say, I am quite surprised to find you’ve broken your ridiculous vow to never feed from a human after so many years of denying yourself. Were you so desperate for the strength to defeat me that you finally compromised your foolish, self-imposed morality?”

“I offered,” Sypha said before Adrian could respond, her voice thick with pain. “He needed it.”

Dracula laughed, the deep, booming sound echoing around the room. “That’s rich. Even a _human_ could tell that you were starving,” he said, looking at Adrian before turning his focus back to Sypha. “Weren’t you afraid of being bitten, little Speaker? Or does your bravery extend past your natural inclination for self-preservation, like it does with the Belmonts?” he waved a hand in the general direction that he’d thrown Trevor, who was wiping blood from his lips and struggling to his feet, albeit slowly.

Sypha shook her head, wincing, as the claws in her arm dug in a little harder at her movement, making Adrian twitch with agitation. She steeled herself, not allowing the pain to show through. “Of course not. I trust Adrian totally. If you weren’t so caught up in your miserable self-pity maybe you’d be able to see how amazing he is. But you can’t. I don’t understand how someone who is as powerful and brilliant as you are can be so blind. You lost your wife, but you still have a son. He needed you and you abandoned him. He lost his mother and you tried to kill him!”

“Sypha!” Adrian said in alarm, his eyes widening at her words. He heard Trevor coughing behind him, the sound too wet.

Dracula tipped his head back and roared loud laughter. His claws tightened around Sypha’s upper arm until she was unable to keep herself from crying out at the pain, her already mangled hand twitching helplessly, blood dripping from her fingertips and soaking into the rug they were standing on.

It took several moments for Dracula to collect himself. “I must say, I am struck by your will little Speaker. I’d have gladly taken you under my wing if we’d met under different circumstances. Unfortunately, you are interfering in matters that have nothing to do with you, and I’ve had enough.”

He bared his teeth, the colour of his eyes intensifying, a fireball growing in his free hand.

Cold fear shot through Adrian and he stiffened at the sight of the gathering flames. “Father no! Don’t kill her,” he said, his voice alien and desperate in his own ears.

Trevor came to stand beside him. His chin and the front of his tunic was stained with his own blood, but he was holding steady on his feet, his whip in one hand, his sword in the other. His blue eyes were sharp and icy, watching every move Dracula made, looking for an in. He spat a gob of blood, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “Adrian, we have to end this.”

The dhampir looked between Trevor and Sypha. She was wavering in and out of consciousness; her eyes were unfocused. Her injury was severe, and the pain was probably unbearable. Trevor, though roughed up and hurt, was obviously prepared to fight until his last.

It was like being backed into a corner, and he saw the triumph in his father’s expression, a smug satisfaction at his approaching victory.

He could not afford to surrender. He wracked his brain for an option that could give him the upper hand. There was no time to deliberate. He had to act. He let his magic flare and in an instant he was swallowed up in a column of flames.

Teleportation allowed him to move instantly, but he wasn’t an expert, and it was a long shot. He reappeared in a blast of fire right behind his father, who was already ready for him. As soon as he re-materialized his head was grabbed in a massive, clawed hand and slammed to the tiles with enough force to send him right through the floor, and the next two below that. He was falling, dazed by the blows, but Dracula had to release Sypha in order to levy the attack. The fireball he’d been holding at the ready was sent through the hole in the floor after Adrian, who managed to scramble out of its path in time to keep from being burnt alive.

He had no idea what became of his companions, but he’d successfully drawn his father after him. The large figure appeared over him and pain erupted in his head as it was slammed repeatedly into a stone pillar until the rock was cracking and the pillar collapsed. He used the mist to escape, evaporating into a cloud in time to avoid the pile of rubble crushing him. More pain blinded him and confused his senses as magic enveloped his mist form and began to burn him.

He was forced to reconstitute, emerging dazed, singed, and panting on his hands and knees. A sharp kick struck his ribs, knocking the air from him and sending him through another wall.

“You’re still no match for me boy,” Dracula taunted, following him leisurely through the hole in the wall, stepping into the next room.

Adrian groaned, trying to breathe. He pushed a huge stone block off of himself, sucking in much-needed oxygen.

“Even with your full strength, you’re still just a child. You can never beat me, son.”

Every inch of Adrian’s body ached, but he forced himself to his feet, trying to keep himself upright. He was still strong, still in prime condition. His injuries were already healing rapidly, and the dizziness abated quickly, He once more lunged towards his father, claws raking through clothing and flesh when Dracula raised his forearm to protect himself from the attack.

They traded blows for several minutes, each of them landing a few, but neither truly gaining the upper hand. Adrian employed his magic, but many times his casting was interrupted before he could complete the spells. He managed a few fireballs and one powerful Dark Inferno attack which struck his father and blasted him through at least five consecutive rooms, but in the end it did no real damage to his enemy. Dracula was too strong; he could cast much faster and both his spells and his blows hit harder. Even with Adrian’s restored abilities, it was not enough to turn the tables.

The fight took them on a tour of half the castle, destruction trailing in their wake. Adrian was struck and burned over and over until his coat and shirt were hanging off of him in rags. He was scraped, clawed, smashed through walls and floors, kicked, punched, and ultimately he realized that he would never win.

Trevor and Sypha were nowhere to be found. A battle taking place at supernatural speed was far too much for humans to keep up with. Adrian hoped they would escape, but he knew they wouldn’t leave him behind.

Finally, Adrian found himself weakening. It was taking longer and longer for him to heal, and the effect of each strike lingered, making it harder to get back up again. He had to grab onto the nearest solid object to gain his footing. He panted, his claws sinking into the stone for purchase as he tried to gather himself. Blood was dripping into his eyes from a gash on his head, though it was slowly knitting back together. He could taste the metallic tang of it on his exhales.

He was in a sizable room, leaning against a huge mantle. Before him was a red velvet love seat and the pattern on the carpet was very familiar.

He looked up. There, on the wall across the room was a painting of his family. His mother, his father, and himself as a baby. They were dressed in their finest clothes. Lisa was wearing a soft white silken dress, tendrils of her blonde hair framing her face. Adrian’s tiny, chubby hand was clutching her hair. He was smiling, his eyes huge and bright. Dracula was in a fine waistcoat, his hair combed and neat, his large hand resting on Adrian’s tiny shoulder.

Adrian was caught completely unexpectedly by a wave of emotion. This was their family room – a private area of the castle where even the servants rarely intruded. It was their space.

The red velvet upholstered love seat sat before the fireplace, which was presently unlit, leaving the room cast in cold shadow. Adrian sent fire to the wood stacked there and it caught quickly, washing the space in warm, flickering light. It made it look the way he remembered it – welcoming.

Like home.

His throat tightened, his eyes burning. He gripped the mantle more tightly.

Dracula came into the room, sauntering, unhurried. He knew Adrian was exhausted.

The light of the fire played off of the staircase which led up to Adrian’s old bedroom, casting long shadows on the stone wall behind it. It illuminated the painting. Adrian’s eyes fixed on it again, his heart twisting painfully.

The faces of his family looked back at him, happy and carefree. A family. A couple in love and their infant child. A life that was gone forever, preserved only in the memories of himself, and of the sinister creature who stalked towards him, fangs bared, eyes reddened with blood lust and murderous intent.

“Give up, son, and I will make it quick. You can’t win. You can hardly stand.”

Dracula drew closer, coming to a stop across from him, the red couch between them. He had suffered some injuries in their fight, but they were all healed now. His clothing was burned in many places, and torn by Adrian’s claws. He was still intimidating, his powerful frame head and shoulders above Adrian’s, his cape swirling around his legs.

“I thought you had more fight in you than this.”

Adrian’s shoulders wilted slightly, his eyes lingering on his mother’s face in the painting. His hand slipped against the mantle and he had to re-position it to maintain his balance. He was weary, but stopping now was not an option.

“I will never give up, Father,” he bit out, forcing himself forward again. “I told you. I won’t let you do this.”

Adrian snarled and threw himself into a desperate attack with everything he had left, slamming into Dracula and sending them both rolling end over end into the far wall of the room. The painting rattled with the force of the impact, then settled, hanging crooked. They struggled together, ripping at one another, trying to gain leverage until Adrian was rendered immobile. Dracula’s arms were around him from behind, one huge hand on his throat, the other poised over his chest, sharpened claws ready to pierce it and relieve him of his heart. He heaved and kicked and struggled, but he couldn’t get free.

“No! Don’t do this! Father, millions of people will die! They are innocent!” he protested, pushing fruitlessly against the iron grip. Even with all of his power, with his lover’s blood, with his full magic, he wasn’t strong enough. The visions had been wrong. He was going to lose, and then Trevor and Sypha would die, and so would everyone else.

“I have to do this,” Dracula said, speaking against his ear, the puff of his breath brushing it. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, son. You’re too human to understand. But I must do this.”

Hot tears pricked Adrian’s eyes. He felt the claws beginning to dig against his chest. The hand around his throat squeezed, cutting off his oxygen and blood flow until he felt the veins in his head throb painfully and his vision was fading at the edges. His heart thundered madly, the fear of a pain he knew far greater than it would be if he hadn’t already been eviscerated once. He tried again to get free, pushing with all of his considerable strength, hard enough that he felt his father’s muscles flexing with the effort to hold him. He was held fast.

Adrian’s blurry gaze fixed on the painting as he felt the claws sink in, slicing easily through his clothing and skin. Blood ran in rivulets down his chest and stomach. He was choking. Suffocating. When he tried to speak he could barely manage a whisper. “Mother… was… human… too,” he rasped, each word laboured. The hand on his neck squeezed harder.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The only indication that anything was still happening was the sound of his heart, each beat stretched out like it was an eternity. The pressure built behind his eyes, capillaries rupturing from the slow, deliberate strangulation. The wound in his chest had grown larger, the claws grating bone where they met with his ribs, the pain searing and white. Adrian couldn’t speak anymore. His trachea was collapsed, his larynx damaged. Tears rolled down his cheeks, a darkness beginning to creep in at the edges of his mind. He fought against it, trying to remain conscious. He didn’t want to die like this.

A soft thud broke the silence where the sounds of his breath should have been. Just a small disturbance, a clatter as the painting fell from the wall, landing on the desk beneath it.

Dracula looked up.

Adrian reached out with his mind, searching, calling.

“Lisa…” his father whispered, a tremor passing through him. His voice cracked when h spoke again. “Lisa… my love, my wife.”

The grip on Adrian’s throat faltered just a fraction, enough that he was able to pull in a painful, ragged bit of air. He found what he searched for, the familiar humming energy. He _pulled_.

“Lisa? W-what am I doing?” Dracula questioned, taking a shuffling step towards the painting, dragging Adrian with him. The claws at his chest relaxed. The grip around his neck eased slightly. His father extended his hand towards the smiling images on the canvas. “I’m killing him- our son. Killing _you_.”

Adrian tore himself free from his father’s hold, slumping to the floor, panting and trying to get enough air. The tinkling silver voice of his sword was loud in his mind. It rushed to answer his call, sailing through the damaged rooms of the castle towards him.

He stared up at the figure of his father, who stumbled forward, his eyes suddenly clear of their blood lust. His expression was a mask of misery. Fresh blood tears streaked his cheeks. “Our son,” he whispered, his voice wavering. “All that’s left of you. Our boy,” he looked away from the canvas and down at the injured dhampir, as if only just realizing his presence.

“Adrian.”

“F-Father,” Adrian managed to say, his voice little more than a wheeze.

Dracula extended a hand. He stared at it for a long moment before accepting it. He was pulled to his feet and he leaned heavily on the supporting arm, unable to stand on his own yet. He blinked away the spots that had clouded his vision.

They looked at one another in silence. Adrian studied every detail of his father’s face. The fine lines that were normally smooth and invisible, now showing through because of starvation and suffering. The strong angles of his jaw and cheeks more pronounced than usual. His straight nose, and heavy brow. Eyes that held millennia of wisdom, and of pain. The flat, wild, animalistic quality was gone; his gaze was once more familiar and loving.

Dracula suddenly pulled Adrian into a tight hug, wrapping him in his huge arms. He was too stunned to do more than let it happen. He stood rigidly in the hold, his arms at his sides, but after a moment he hugged back, the sensation alien after so much conflict. It made him nervous, but he gave in anyway, leaning his head against the broad chest and fighting the burn of his tears.

The embrace lasted a minute, and Adrian committed every part of it to memory, knowing it would be the last. Eventually his father pulled back, his hands on Adrian’s upper arms.

“I can’t endure without her,” his father said to him, eyes closing sadly.

“I know,” Adrian answered.

His sword sliced cleanly into Dracula’s body from behind, piercing his heart. The bloody blade protruded from his chest, coming to rest an inch from Adrian’s face.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. They stared at one another, the sword between them. Adrian didn’t flinch, he didn’t move at all. He stood stonily, watching to see what would happen.

Then Dracula jerked and his eyes grew wide with pain and shock. His breath caught, stuttering with a sickening bubbling sound as blood began to pour from his mouth. His hands scrabbled against Adrian’s upper arms, fingers working in the open air, grasping uselessly. He stumbled forward and Adrian put his arms out to catch his weight, holding him up.

Realization finally passed over the chiseled features, and Dracula sighed deeply, relaxing in Adrian’s hold. Relief passed over his face and then his eyes closed, his body loosening, growing limp as it began to rapidly age and disintegrate, the flesh sucking into it until he resembled a skeleton, blood still coming from between his lips, soaking into his tunic until it was saturated.

“Adrian!” Trevor’s voice broke the spell of horror as he rushed into the room, weapons drawn. Sypha followed behind him at a slower pace, clutching her arm gingerly.

Adrian was too stunned to take in much more than the sight of his father dying in front of him. A thousand things flew through his mind in an instant, and he felt himself beginning to tremble, falling backwards until he was on the floor just staring in disbelief.

Trevor leapt forward and swung the Morning Star, striking Dracula’s back in an uproarious explosion. He wasted no time moving in to follow up with his sword. He relieved the creature of it’s head, his blade severing its neck, the head falling to the floor and rolling a few paces, coming to rest against Adrian’s boot. Blood poured from the corpse at an impossible rate, many more liters of blood than should be inside of a single body. It began to evaporate into thick vapour until a dark cloud filled the room, choking out the light of the fire that still burned in the hearth.

The corpse fell to its knees and slumped forward. Trevor stepped back out of the way, leaving space for Sypha to do her part. It was obviously hard for her to focus with her severely broken arm, but she managed to summon flame one-handed and blasted the whole thing with an intense, concentrated heat.

The remains gave off noxious black smoke which thickened until the room was nearly unbearable. Inhuman whispers and screeching came from the mess as it shriveled and burned up, but by this point Adrian wasn’t really seeing it. He was looking, but he wasn’t present in the moment. He felt disconnected from all of it, as though it were happening far away from him, to someone else.

He tried to stand and his legs wouldn’t hold him. He tried to move his foot away from his father’s severed head so that Sypha’s fire could engulf it like it had the body, but he was caught up looking at the shiny wet splatter of blood on his boot.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from that splash of blood. He stared, unblinking, barely breathing, until the heat of Sypha’s flames forced him to move back. He fled unconsciously up the stairs towards the safety of his room, moving without any real thought.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, sinking to his knees and stroking the familiar plush carpet under his fingers. He gripped the baluster so tightly his fingertips went white, and he curled against them, drawing his knees in to himself and closing his eyes, leaning his head to the wood.

Minutes passed. The heat of Sypha’s fire dissipated, the awful smoke clearing. The inhuman creature – his _father_ – was gone, but Adrian was still clutching the rounded wooden balusters, eyes squeezed tightly closed. It was disorienting. He thought for certain that if he opened his eyes he would see his mother and father on the sofa, laughing together, his mother unaware of his presence, his father not giving him away, but letting on that he knew with the odd little glance in his direction.

It felt so real, and so surreal at the same time.

He was finally home.

He was safe, Trevor and Sypha were safe, and it was over.

Sypha was injured – he should help her – but it would wait a few minutes, at least until he could tell what was real and what wasn’t.

Slowly, Adrian opened his eyes. He was not greeted with the image of his family, no matter how strange it was that they were absent. That was in the past. The present was a pile of ash in front of the hearth, the carpet singed, the glint of his father’s ring in the light of the fire. The present was Trevor picking Adrian’s long sword out of the mess and wiping it clean before standing it against the wall. It was Sypha slumping to the sofa, her shoulders trembling from pain and exhaustion and exertion, and probably relief as well.

Adrian had to blink a few times to be certain. He didn’t fully trust his eyes. He looked at his hands. His gloves were gone – wrecked in the fighting – and his long, slender fingers greeted him, his skin milk white with a hint of his natural grey. They shook lightly. He felt his throat, where his father’s grip had nearly crushed his neck entirely, but it was already healing. His touched his chest through his torn shirt, and found only his usual scarred flesh, no new wounds or marks, just the same chest that had been there before.

He was whole. Alive. So were his lovers. It was over. Vlad Dracula Tepes was no more.

Adrian thought it would feel good to cry, but he found himself too numb. He felt nothing but emptiness and confusion as he finally pulled himself up and moved listlessly down the stairs, his feet silent on the plush carpet.

“We did it, the bastard’s dead,” Trevor said with a wide smile, throwing an arm over Adrian’s shoulders as they met at the bottom of the stairs. “Whatever else happens, at least that’s over with. I don’t suppose you know if there’s anything to drink around here? Maybe a wine cellar? I think this calls for a celebration.”

Adrian blinked at Trevor, still not completely convinced that he was actually here in this moment. He shrugged imperceptibly, staring at the empty spot on the floor.

Sypha rose from the sofa, her good hand clutching her other arm, which dangled at her side. Dracula's deep claw marks were angry and red, and still bleeding a little. She must have attempted to cauterize the wound, because he could smell her flesh was burnt and it was blackened in some parts. There was nothing she could do for her crushed hand, which was beginning to swell.

“Trevor, Adrian’s just lost his father, try not to be completely insensitive,” Sypha said, meeting Adrian’s eyes. Her own were filled with understanding and sadness, and he had to look away because he didn’t want to cry.

He closed his eyes. “He was a monster,” he whispered, hugging himself.

“He was a man too,” Sypha said gently. “He was your family. It’s okay to mourn him.”

“Shit, yeah, that’s right,” Trevor said, letting Adrian free of his hold. “I’ve just… it’s hard to put it together that you actually were- you know- _close_ to him. Family.”

Adrian didn’t say anything, reeling in the numb feeling again. He stared at the floor, at the blood on his boot.

Trevor peeled away from the other two and bent to pick up Dracula’s ring, turning it over in his hand.

“I guess you might want to keep this,” he said to Adrian, dropping it into his palm.

Adrian was hit with the chilling realization that this was one of the scenes from his visions. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was similar, right down to Trevor’s words. He looked around the room. Things were destroyed, though not the same things as he’d seen before. The sofa was intact, for example. He wasn’t holding his sword. The painting of his family was not hanging on the wall anymore, as it had been in his vision. But it was still frighteningly similar. It gave him an awful, cold sensation, because he knew he had to act carefully or Very Bad Things were going to happen.

Adrian closed his hand around the ring. The metal was warm, and felt strange against his skin, tingly. Millennia of existence, and all that remained of his father was this ring, himself, and the castle around them, which was utterly trashed.

“We should get cleaned up,” Sypha said, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved closer, trying not to jostle her arm as she took Adrian’s hand with her unhurt one. Her fingers clammy and cold, her grip weak. “Come on,” she said, once more giving him the feeling of deja vu, because she had said the exact same thing in his vision.

“Yeah, Sypha’s right,” Trevor said, coming to Adrian’s other side. He opened his hand over the dhampir’s back. His palm was very warm. He seemed solid, as though he were anchored in reality. “We should try and clean up, settle in. The horses are probably still close if we can get them. They’ll freeze without some shelter, it’s too cold and exposed out there for them. And our packs, we’ve got some food left. It doesn’t look like there’s going to be much here.”

Adrian slipped the ring into his pocket and nodded, moving numbly along with them. He still couldn’t seem to grasp that this was real. It was still dreamlike and a little disorienting. The familiarity of the castle was messing with his head. Everywhere they went he kept getting the sense that normalcy wold be just around the next corner, but if course it never was.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

They moved away from the room where the battle had ended, and it helped a little. They walked together through darkened, silent halls, backtracking downwards a few floors to put some distance between themselves and the room Dracula died in. Trevor carried a torch for them to see by.

It soon became obvious that Sypha couldn’t continue; she needed medical attention and rest. Trevor opened a random door and pulled them into a lavishly decorated guest room that Adrian barely remembered seeing before. There were dozens like it all over the castle. Trevor put the torch in the holder on the wall and guided Sypha to a comfortable looking chaise, helping her ease down on it and lay her broken hand on the armrest.

He went to the window and pulled the thick drapes open, but it had gone full dark outside. Not the unnatural darkness of the immediate area around the castle, but actual night. The world beyond the window was completely blocked out by blowing snow. Strong gusts of wind whipped against the windows, making them rattle.

“Adrian light some candles,” Trevor instructed, and Adrian nodded, lighting the tapers in two candelabras that were in the room. He placed one on the table beside the chaise where Sypha sat, and the other on a night table that was to one side of the bed.

Sypha was fading quickly and Adrian was essentially useless, and somebody needed to deal with the immediate. Trevor slipped into that role naturally. He told Adrian to build a fire in the small fireplace, which he did obediently, not brooking any argument. A warm glow suffused everything, and heat began to trickle slowly into the small room.

Sypha had begun to shiver violently. She had her teeth clenched tightly and she was staring wide eyed at her rapidly swelling hand, her face pale and drawn. She was breathing fast and shallow, her pulse weak. Adrian stared at her mangled hand, but he couldn’t seem to _think_. He turned away from her and strode to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He barely felt the softness beneath his body. He looked at his boot.

“Adrian,” Trevor said to him, taking a seat beside him. “You need to snap out of it.”

The now dried splotch of his father’s blood was still crusted to the leather. It was horrific.

“Adrian,” Trevor repeated, closing a hand over his shoulder.

“Trevor?” Adrian blinked at him, unwilling to admit that he’d lost track of his surroundings.

Trevor held his gaze, his own stern and hard. “We need your help. I think Sypha’s getting worse, and this place is a fucking maze. Come on. We have to get set up here, get safe, cleaned up, warm. I can’t do this stuff without you. I can’t even find my way out of here without you. Can you go get the horses? Bring them somewhere where they’re out of the cold, bring our packs.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. He leaned a little closer. Adrian noticed that he had blood dried into his beard. “I don’t want to leave her alone. Is there- can you help her arm? Like you did for me before, with your blood? I wouldn’t ask but it’s pretty fucking bad.”

The disconnect seemed to evaporate with Trevor’s earnest request for help. Like everything had been fuzzy and it just snapped into focus. He’d been drifting aimlessly since the end of the fight, numb and lost, but now he was sure that this _was_ real. This was _his_ castle now, and his partners needed his help.

Adrian actually shook himself, like he was shaking free the last of the confusion and he felt a little better. He stood up.

“I’m okay now. Thank you, Trevor.”

The blue eyed man nodded, standing beside him and squeezing his shoulder. “‘Course. Just- the fight’s over but we still have shit that needs doing.”

Adrian went to Sypha’s side and knelt before her, looking at her arm. It was her left arm, marred over the bicep and triceps by deep claw marks, and her hand misshapen and swollen. He ghosted his fingers over the injuries, trying to feel for the breaks before the swelling could get any worse. The skin already resembled a ripened tomato, and Sypha visibly flinched at even the gentlest contact.

“Your hand needs to be set,” he said to her, and she shuddered.

“It… really hurts,” she admitted, unable to keep the pain from her voice.

“I know Sypha,” Adrian sympathized, taking her good hand in his and kissing it apologetically. She was icy to the touch, and so pale her lips were almost blue. “I can give you some of my blood to heal the breaks, but I have to set the bones correctly or they could heal badly, and we would have to break your hand again.”

Sypha paled further, looking like she might actually pass out. “Is that- uhm- you have to do that right now?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, but it would be best to get it over with.”

Trevor sat on the chaise beside her, rubbing her thigh. She stiffened, hunching her shoulders, trying to curl into herself. Sypha was a brave woman, but having an already horrifically painful injury further prodded would make even the toughest person cringe and tremble. Adrian’s stomach twisted at the prospect of causing her so much pain. He could probably use his abilities to alter her mental state by putting her in some kind of trance, but those were things he had barely ever used in his life, and he wasn’t confident in the results. He didn’t want to test something like that on her.

“Syph, if he does it now, then gives you some of his blood it will heal you quickly, and you’ll feel better after.”

Sypha looked at her hand. Several of her fingers were not pointing in the right direction, although her thumb appeared intact. Her palm was crushed. She glanced back at Adrian. “You really know what to do?” she asked him.

“I’m… pretty sure. I helped Mother set breaks a few times before. Never- never anything this bad, but we don’t have access to a doctor. I could look for one of her medical books, just to get a picture of the bones and where they should all be. Sypha- I don’t know if it will be perfect after. He crushed your hand. I’m not a miracle worker.”

Sypha closed her eyes, settling herself, her jaw hardening a little, though it was impossible to maintain with her teeth chattering so much. She nodded.

“I trust you Adrian. Just try to go fast. I might faint.”

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

Adrian began with palpation of each bone and joint, identifying where the worst damage was. He couldn’t see if there were hairline fractures, but actual compound fractures and crush injuries were what concerned him most. Of these, she had several, and he did the best he could.

Trevor held her in place to keep her from jerking reflexively away from Adrian’s touch, and they placed a strip of leather between her teeth to bite against. Sypha screamed in agony when he set the first metacarpal, her voice cracking then breaking as he grasped the two sides and pulled them away from one another. By the time he was shifting them back together her voice was gone, and her screams were just hoarse croaks.

She fainted after the second bone was set. It was actually a blessing, because she went limp. Trevor was able to hold her more easily, and Adrian was able to work faster. She still stiffened and groaned under his hands, but after several drawn out minutes had had done everything he could.

“Jesus you have a strong stomach,” Trevor muttered after it was over, looking green. “I think Syph was right that time she said you should be a doctor. That was fucking awful. Maybe worse than when we had to set your leg. Or at least on par.”

Being reminded of the time he was trapped in the Belmont Hold sent a shudder through the blonde, but he shook it off, returning his attention to Sypha. He gently pushed her sweat-dampened bangs from her face, fingers tracing the angle of her cheek lovingly. “I hope that her hand still works properly. There was a lot of damage.”

“You did the best you could, and that’s a fuck of a lot better than either her or I could do alone,” he answered, carefully poking at her upper arm. The claw marks there were deep: four furrows cutting past all layers of flesh into the muscle tissue, each one several inches long. They still oozed blood, but they were also burned from Sypha’s apparent attempt at cauterization. She would have bad scarring. Adrian’s blood would reduce it, but it would go to the deepest wounds first. It was possible that direct application to the claw marks could help though.

“She did this herself?” he said, indicating the burns.

Trevor nodded. “Yeah. After he threw you through the floor and dropped her she was bleeding bad. She used her magic and did her best. It reeked, I saw her burn her own skin off in between the cuts, but she didn’t make a fucking sound.”

The last comment was spoken with obvious amazement, and Trevor smiled helplessly at Sypha, and leaning in to kiss her on the temple. “I think she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. Who else could use magic with a crushed hand while bleeding out?”

Adrian took Trevor’s free hand and squeezed it. “She’s amazing,” he agreed, studying the unconscious woman.

In another minute her eyes were fluttering. She groaned in pain and her face pinched, scrunching up as she started to wake. When she opened her eyes they were pale and clouded, but she looked around herself, gaze coming to rest on her swollen (likely throbbing) hand. After a second she looked warily to Adrian. “Is it over?”

He nodded. “Yes, love. It’s done.”

She was visibly relieved, leaning her head back against Trevor’s shoulder, letting her eyes close again, the tension draining from her body as fresh, silent tears streaked her cheeks. “My hand feels like it was chewed up by a wild pig and dipped in hot tar.”

“I think I can help with that,” Adrian said, leaning over her. “My blood can heal you.”

He pressed his lips gently to her cold, clammy skin, listening to the rapid racing of her pulse. He kissed her tears away, then found her mouth, biting his own tongue deeply until his blood filled it. He encouraging her to swallow several mouthfuls, piercing his tongue again when the first wound healed too quickly. It was a reverse their usual blood kisses, and it felt good to be able to give, rather than take.

She grimaced at the initial taste, then pulled him closer with her good hand, sucking his mouth urgently, licking her tongue against his until there was nothing more to take. There was something thrilling and erotic about it the exchange, but any possible excitement was easily overshadowed by the circumstances. She released him and fell back against Trevor, panting softly, her cheeks suddenly flushed with colour.

Adrian watched her reaction with curiosity. He’d never given his blood to a human before except the tiny amount he had put directly into the wounds he’d given Trevor a few days ago. He was curious as to the effect. He knew that exchanging blood with humans could have lingering effects, but there was usually magic involved, and a _lot_ more blood. Enthrallment didn’t happen by by accident, as he had explained to Trevor once.

Sypha’s breathing evened out as the pain and swelling started to dissipate and the breaks began to heal. Other than her colour returning to normal and her heart rate slowing back to average levels, there was no other obvious effect.

It wasn’t perfect. After about five minutes the healing slowed, and after ten nothing was happening any longer. Adrian moved to examine all of the wounds and assess the final result.

The hand was stiff, and still healing – but it was miles ahead of where she would have otherwise been, and the pain had receded to manageable levels. It did not look like she needed a brace or cast. She could not make a fist. Her ring and pinkie fingers hardly moved at all when she tried to bend them. Adrian thought that might affect her ability to cast magic, but he kept it to himself for the time being.

Her upper arm looked a lot better too. The slashes were closed now, the skin pink and tender, but the furrows were still visible, and she would absolutely have some ugly scars. Adrian winced at that, almost feeling guilty for not doing a better job with it, but she did not appear bothered. She ran her hand over the area and smiled.

“That’s going be a great way to start my story when I tell it. Thank you, Adrian. I feel a lot better,” she said, pulling him in for a kiss. She yawned wide. “I think I have to sleep now,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning against Trevor.

“We’ll be here Syph, just rest up,” he said, smoothing his hand through her short copper curls and kissing her head.

“Mm,” she mumbled, dropping off.

Adrian stood up straight and gave his back and arms a little stretch.

Now that the urgent concern of Sypha’s injuries was past, his mind was starting to wander again, and he did not want to give it the opportunity. He looked around the room, then back to Trevor, who was watching him intently.

“Is it weird?” he asked, when Adrian didn’t say anything. “Being here?”

He worried his lower lip, considering. He shook his head. “Not weird,” he answered, voice quiet. “Maybe surreal? It has not fully sunk in yet,” he admitted, studying the intricate metal candelabra that was on the side table beside the chaise.

“Well, it’s weird as shit for me,” Trevor volunteered. “I’m in Dracula’s castle, and I’m not running for my life or trying to kill anything. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s not his castle anymore,” Adrian answered. The concept was just as foreign to him as it probably was to Trevor. “It’s _my_ castle now,” he added, not yet certain how he felt about that.

He went to the small fireplace where the blaze was finally throwing some good heat, and added another log. Glancing to the wall above the mantle, he saw the fixtures for the electric lighting. There were a few of them around the room, all lifeless, of course. The switch on the wall by the doorway would normally turn them on. Adrian strode to it and flipped the switch. Nothing happened.

He sighed and turned to face Trevor. “There is a lot that needs to be cleaned up, repaired, and rebuilt. I need to start looking for schematics, notes, and materials. We can’t stay here, on this mountain. We’ll starve.”

“We could go back to Hana’s place, maybe think about what to do?”

“No. I’m not leaving. This place is my responsibility. It will attract evil. I can’t leave it unprotected. I can’t leave it to be ransacked and pillaged. My family history is here, and all of Father’s collected knowledge. It’s _mine_. I have to stay.”

Trevor eased himself out from where Sypha was slumped against him, laying her against the back of the chaise. He closed the distance between himself and Adrian, sliding a hand around the dhampir’s waist. “Adrian you’re getting ahead of yourself. A lot happened today, and I think you are still processing. Go downstairs and get the horses. Find them somewhere safe for the night. Bring our packs back up here so we can have something to eat. Some water. We’re going to rest, and you’re going to take a little time to absorb all of this, because you need it, and so do I. We can talk about what we do from here tomorrow. Alright?”

Adrian leaned into Trevor, brushing his face against the roughness of his beard, letting their heads rest together. He was right. He didn’t have the best grasp on reality at the moment. They were physically and emotionally exhausted, and Adrian was still numb.

Trevor had a wound on his side that had yet to be treated, and he’d hit his head hard enough to knock him out cold, which was a no-no after being recently concussed. There were other bumps and bruises on top of those, too. He looked like shit, actually, now that Adrian let himself see it. And on the chaise, Sypha slept, but she was still recovering, and she didn’t look great either.

As for himself? Adrian was firmly not ready to think past the simple statement that the castle was _his_ now. If he let himself think about the rest, he was going to be crushed under the weight of it. Trevor was right – he needed to narrow his focus to the immediate and the rest would all come in due time. He had plenty of time, after all. Nobody was going to take the castle from him. He would figure all of it out. How to fix everything, how to get it moving again, and how to keep it safe.

But first, he was hungry and thirsty and tired, and the rest would still be there to worry about tomorrow.

“Stay with Sypha. I’ll get our things,” he said to Trevor, slipping from the room.

**< << ~o~O~o~ >>>**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much wanted to pay homage to the way this battle played out in the Netflix series, because I feel it was one of the best episodes of the entire show. They NAILED IT, and I could not bring myself to stray too far from some of the exchanges. That said, I always felt that Dracula's connection to Lisa would be his weakness, not necessarily Adrian. I sincerely hope that I was able to do this event justice. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed this content, please leave me a comment!!


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